#Let him restart things. Let him get things going in a better direction...

[runefactorynonsense]

Melotober - Day 28 - Flame

What do you think you can do?

[keen-li]

Soft launch | jk

Summary: The one where you’ve been a solo OF creator for some time, but now your viewers are requesting to see you with a partner, but you only have...Jungkook as an option. Your closest friend.

18+ MDNI.

Jungkook x fem reader.

Friends to FWB, smut.

Warnings: filmed coitus, kissing, a down bad Jungkook?, fingering, neck kisses, implied virgin reader, penetration(protected.) sweet after care.

Note: smut practice No.1

A/n: this is just practice and i worked on it so fast there could be errors but I did try to edit it. i don’t know how to write smut so I’m working on it. If you think it’s cringe or don’t like it please don’t tell me 😊, I don’t want to know. This is just for fun and no thought.

Any positive, reply, ask or reblog is appreciated

Wc: 2.2k+

╰⊰♡⊱╮

“Really?” when you ask to clarify and he nods, you’re already getting excited. “Let me restart the video.”

You skip to the camera, making sure to end the previous one.

You’ve been doing filming for over a year now, you’re still new but it’s shocking how you’ve grown a large audience already.

Filming pays you so well that you’ve taken it up full time. And with that you’ve had to get creative.

You always did your work solo, it was comfortable and what made you feel the most confident. The people loved it. But it can get monotonous at times, and they made sure to let you know.

You’ve never minded requests; they help you alleviate the pressure of thinking of how to be creative next. So, when people start requesting you to get a partner, it made you do a double take.

Working with someone isn’t something you mind doing. But what really concerned you was your comfortability. You couldn’t walk up to a random person and ask if they could film with you. You never had friends in the industry, and only one male friend. Your female friends don’t swing that way.

So, you were stuck.

But then your thoughts went back to the only male friend you have. Jungkook. He was single and supported what you did.

So, would he help you?

You were scared to ask, but it was worth the shot. If he said no then you could pretend it was a lie. He was very open minded to things, so could he be to this? It’s definitely playing at the seams of things you’ve never thought of in your friendship.

So, it was a shock to you when he said yes, very quickly as well.

“Maybe you should hold the camera.” You tilt your head to the side, doubting what route you should go with this. “For a better angle you get?” he nods.

Cause of the job people wouldn’t believe you’ve actually never slept with anyone before. That’s the main reason you don’t have other male friends. They’d always try to sleep with you. You were never interested in that. and that’s what made Jungkook different.

He never tried to sleep with you, you’d joke flirtishly, but it was never more than that. That’s why you feel comfortable enough to do this with him.

Plus, the other guys always judged you or slut shamed you for what you did. But Jungkook never did, he’s actually the one who bought you the camera you’re using currently.

He also taught how to set up and direct yourself. And the reason he’s here tonight was to help you film a video.

“I’ll hold it.” He says walking over to grab the camera from your grip, his fingers brushing past you longer than normal.

It’s Jungkook, filming should feel easier. “it’ll feel more natural.”

You just nod. You’ve been filming most of your content by yourself and still don’t get the camera thing.

You’re glad he’s here.

“You want me to--” the gesture you make with your hands has him laughing. You pout though and he stops.

“You want to be a fluffer?” the smile from the laugh lingers.

“I’m just asking.”

He chuckles.

“I’ll be fine.”

Thanks to the video you were recording before, he’s partially there.

Watching the way, you touched yourself, how soft your breaths and moans escaped your plushie rose lips. It was a sight to see.

You know how to touch yourself but you definitely need someone to show you deeper pleasure.

“Kook, stop teasing.”

“Content. I’m sure the people like to see little desperation.”

“This video’s gonna be an hour long if you keep that up.”

“I don’t mind.” He has a cheeky smile on his face but you’re having none of it. “Fine. You’re the boss.” He’s only letting you have your way cause it for your page, and he wants to respect the request. but if it was what he wanted, that mouth would’ve been too caught up to whine.

Jungkook pulls your panties off. You have no clue how he does it so swiftly with one hand. He gets it done and now he can stare at your wetness.

“you’re staring.” You inform him like he wasn’t doing it on purpose. Again...if it was on his terms.

“Is this for me?” he runs a cold finger through your folds. You lay ass at the edge of the bed and he stands between your thighs.

You bite your lower lips the longer he traces through them. Is this what it feels like to have someone else do it.

“it’s for the camera.”

“Hard to believe when I’m the one with a finger in you.” At that a finger slips into you. Slow, but determined you fully settle in. You’ve done it yourself before, so why does it feel new with his.

“Fuck kook.” You call when another is added.

“I was supposed to eat you out but since you’re in a hurry...” they glide in and out, pulling a moan from you eat time. Jungkook grows a lopsided smile watching how you squirm just from his fingers. Sweet girl. “...we can save it for another video.”

Another video? You hadn’t though about that. Your viewers would want more, so it does make sense. But... he’s okay with doing another video.

He’s ecstatic. This would be enough. it is nice, but it wouldn’t be enough. he needs to feel you in everyway. Your weight on him, his face. The way you taste, how long would you last?

And his personal favourite.

How many times can he make you come?

All those things make him want to come back.

Not to say that he’s been thinking about this. He’s loves your friendship and loves how you get along as friends. You’ve been friends for awhile and with that comes him witnesses all the shitty guys you encounter, he’s glad you’ve never given then what they were hoping. Honestly, they wouldn’t know what to do with all this.

He wants to see you succeed and be happy, and if fucking you gets you closer to that then he’ll be here...

Right in your tight cunt...

He’s kind of hating this camera right now. Holding it and trying to touch every part of you is hard. And frustrating.

And you can sense it. “You, okay?” you sit up on your elbows and you’re met with exactly what you felt. His brows knitted and tongue poking his cheek. It’s hot when he does that. and he’s so stupid for not noticing how you drip even more after it.

“Yeah, I just need to put this somewhere.”

You knew he’d get tired of it eventually. “Let me grab the--”

“uh-uh...just lay there.” He commands and you don’t move.

He goes to grab the stand.

When he turns, he finds you on your elbows. He hopes this image of you stays on his mind forever. It’s a dangerous wish. But he’d risk it.

You can feel you mouth water when you catch the bulge clearly begging to be touched. He smacks your hand away when you reach.

“Next video I want to suck you off.” You’re not even staring at him, cause you’d see how he pokes his tongue again and his cheeks turn rosier.

Jungkook can’t deny the effect the words have on him. And now he’s getting impatient.

He loves that you’re settling into the idea. Maybe he’ll become your full-time partner. But for him fucking you is the payment; you can keep all the money you earn.

Not knowing how to respond with words he just smirks.

You want to remark how he doesn’t respond but he’s thumb on your clit shuts you up. He knew it would.

His fingers adjust to the warmth. The sounds you and your body make are ethereal. He needs to be closer. So, leaning over he latches at a nipple and your back arches immediately. You’re making sure you can be heard but unlike others, you really mean it.

He’s all over you, kissing up your chest, wet kisses on your neck. You can barely stay in one position, the pleasure of having someone else pleasure you is overwhelming. It’s a new feeling, but your body adjust quickly and you’re begging for more.

“Kiss me.”

He pauses, and when his face is in your view his eyes soften. “Really?” kissing would feel really intimate and he’s not sure if that’s what you were intending. But he doesn’t mind. Not at all.

Your nod comes out rushed and just as fast his lips capture yours. Your hands immediately move to touching anything you want. His hair, under his shirt, you tease to go lower but the pull at your lips stops you. You smile.

Your lips move simultaneously, the feeling soft but deep; proving how bad you don’t want him to stop. You need more of this feeling.

Your tongues battle for dominance, but how much of a fight is it when he’s winning. He smirks when you moan into the kiss.

And that’s all you can handle, you need more. So you pull away, confusing him.

“I need you.”

“I’m here.”

His lips are on your neck again and as much as you’d love him to keep going just like that. there’s a purpose to all of this.

“Wanna feel you.”

Immediately a hot wave of blood rushes down him. And he can only bite his lips. You really know how to shut him up.

“You’re so fucking perfect.” He says against your lips. It’s unprompted but not really. It’s just everything about you, maybe he’s doomed himself by doing this. Cause even from the little he’s had; you’ve ruined him for anyone else. Not that he was looking for anyone else.

Seeing that you were solo, birth control was not a thing for you. So, he’s quick to grabbing protection. Maybe now you’ll consider the, seeing that you’re considering more of this anyways.

You watch him slip it over, his eyes on you the whole time.

When he’s between your legs, you lift your hips, just to be an inch closer to him.

“So impatient...” he mocks. “I’m not going anywhere baby.”

You hope he doesn’t.

Grabbing himself, he inches to your core but then you stop him...

“The camera kook.’

“Oh yeah.” Forgot about it.

He points the device to where you meet. He pushes your legs apart, when you threaten to close them.

“So tight. fuck” He mumbles, inching deeper and stretching you out. You wish you could reach him, claw at his back and leave marks to remind him how good this feels.

A whimper escapes your lips when he’s in deeper. The stretch stings but soon turns to pleasure. More than you’ve ever given yourself.

“You good?” he pauses and you want to yell at him for it, but you get it. The stretch feels so new and he wouldn’t want to hurt.

“Mhm.”

“Feels good?”

The moan and gasps are enough of an answer for him.

“She’s taking me so well guys.”

Shit you forgot about the camera. Should you post this? Fuck. You have to, that was the point.

Feeling like you’re more settled Jungkook begins rocking, still holding himself for control.

“Feels so good kook.” you whimper, shutting your eyes.

“I know baby.”

He’s not even moving fast and it feel like heaven. You won’t last long...shit.

More slick dripping out aides his movement. And he begins rocking faster.

You have no clue where to hold onto or what to say. You grip your sheets spewing out who knows what...his movements get faster and you’re getting louder.

Your viewer’s will love this. How he’s slipping into your cunt. How you’re inching away but he has to pull you back with one hand. How you whimper and chant his name with curses.

The slapping of skin is melodious with your moans. With the way you twitch around him he knows you’re close. So, he rubs on your clit to intensify the pleasure and you’re seeing lights.

His name spills out your mouth continuously has you feel the pressure. The knot tightens and you’re inching closer to the feeling.

“don’t stop.” You beg.

“wasn’t going to darling.” It’s the pleasure, it’s the hand that grips your thigh and it’s the pet name and if your eyes were open it would be the way he looks and smiles down at you.

He continues you rock into you and rub your clit until the knot snaps. And it’s never snapped like this.

Your body shakes and you tighten around him, bring him closer as well.

“fuck..” He grunts as he twitches into the latex like he’s never done before in a while.

You’re stuck between time. What the fuck just happened?

Jungkook slips out of you and you internally whine and the loss. He throws the rubber in your bathroom. You flinch when you feel a damp cloth on our core.

When did he even leave the room?

“You did so good.” He kisses down your sweaty chest. It feels good. When you’re alone you have no one to reassure you. So, it feels great to hear him say that.

He’s taken by surprise when you pull him and kiss his lips.

“Now, I don’t want to post it.” You pout and he watches ever inch of your features.

“That would be a waste, wouldn’t it?” he stares into your eyes not able to move away cause you’re holding him closer so kiss him. He loves it. He leans into the kiss before you’re pulling away again.

“no.”

╰⊰♡⊱╮

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Yandere V + H: Shaiapouf

This ant is born to be a henchman in every universe

Though one would not be wrong when questioning how often he feels the need to direct the villain he’s serving’s attention

Always willing to give up any part of himself for his precious villain to succeed

Ride or die they’re glory is everything to him

But only if that glory includes him

He’s a tad selfish but for all the right reasons 

It’s for you of course

When you rise from the ashes of his former creator to take on the role of an innovator 

You’re all he can ask for 

No longer tied by his biological connection or maybe just an overcomplicated pheromone mishap

He devotes himself to the legacy you’ve restarted making his uncalled-for connections to his old villain

But it’s the differences he does notice that lead him to be…so involved:

“Shiapouf make a note. Clearly, the titanium-devastating robot taught them nothing about better infrastructure.”

“Yes, my liege!” 

He admired your back which was beautifully annunciated by the elegant cape on your back. Pouf proudly squeezed at the bandaged tips of his fingers as he recalled personally sewing the insignia of your villain name onto its center. 

Turning before you he opened the door of the invisible jet for you, bowing as you entered the back seat. Closing the door he sent one more hidden glare at the construction crew working in the rubble of the old sky-scraper. In his deepest of hearts, he almost wished they wouldn’t try, shaking his head in punishment. You wanted this, therefore this was right. Entering through the door, he harshly yelled at the door of the cockpit,” Go.”

That was all that was needed for the jet to silently left the city, cruising above national waters in seconds. Pouf had located himself directly across from you watching in admiration and amusement as you twisted and tilted your face as you scrolled through articles on your digital pad. 

“Once again this proves to be ineffectual in making them evolve. This wasn’t a big enough sign for them to even consider using that material they discovered that could be made with the remains of that overgrowing landfill. “

Pouf resisted the urge to clutch his cheeks,” My liege, you’re so generous to these low-lifes.”

You let out a muted ‘thanks’ before closing your eyes in thought. Millions of images from various politicians and inventors calling for reform or change. None of them are worthy enough or even supported enough to be considered significant change. It started to make you wonder…

“Perhaps…this isn’t the right thing to do.”

Pouf’s smile was gone. A serious expression on his face as he asked, ”What do you mean your Grace?”

Sighing you looked out the window,” My whole goal is to help the humans of this world evolve but I worry all I’m doing is just killing the masses for no reason.”

If the cabin of the jet wasn’t cool, it was freezing because of Pouf’s glare.

“Who says this?”

“What do you mean I am—”

“Who said this.”

The question that didn’t need to be said brought a familiar pit in your stomach. Fidgeting with your fingerless gloves and then your raised collar that felt like it was making you hot. Pouf’s darkened tuscan-yellow eyes were filled with the retained fury of a protector. One that you found much more frightening than the hero you escaped from every time.

“A journalist from the Hunter’s Post. She just made some really good–”

“Name?”

“Pouf I don’t want to punish anyone–”

“Name, (Y/n).”

“Ponzu….her name was Ponzu.”

“Thank you (Y/n)--”

“Please Pouf I don’t want anything—”

Pouf smiled widely, “I think you should rest, my Liege!”  

You opened your mouth to protest, actually getting up from the seat you were in to plead. Finding you’re body refused to listen as you finally registered the shimmering colors and grand wideness of Shaiapouf’s wings. You didn’t need to see the sparkling particles to know what was happening, vaguely recalling this same scene playing out just a few days ago.

“Sleep peacefully, my (Y/n). I’ll deal with the parasite that’s poisoned you.”

Pouf smiled at your slumped figure before snapping his fingers. His joyful expression is gone now that three winged servants appeared at his side. All three bowing and awaiting his orders.

“Find the journalist Ponzu. Bring her to me alive, I will deal with her punishment personally.”

Two of the servants darted off, quickly flying out of a hatch that allowed them to leave without letting too much of the wind inside. The remaining servant stood still awaiting orders.

“Idiot. Get our Great One a blanket, can’t you see they’re needing one.”

The servant bowed their head swiftly heading to the back of the jet. Giving Pouf the privacy he desired to stand from his own seat and kneel before yours. Looking up at your sleeping face, he couldn’t deny himself the urge to caress your sleeping face.

“Don’t worry. I will always fight for your glorious mission. Even if you forget.”

[sweetestflow3rs]

10 & 13 for Cody!

10. Share a sentence of dialogue from your OC that you think represents them well.

I couldn't think of a quote he'd say, so I found other quotes said that I think represent Cody & his whole thing: but the quote of "Creation from Destruction".

It's a very simple phrase, that encapsulates the entirety of Cody's character and his own motivations, as he has a very ouroboros-like mindset that by destroying things, you can restart anew and make it better. Hence his very chaotic & destructive behaviors and why he is very carefree in regards to how he goes about his own life, but also very meticulous & 4D chessing everything to fulfill his own desires.

Cause I'm not sure if I ever gone into detail, but Cody's whole reason as to why he hasn't left town, and plays into one of his quest branches, is because he genuinely wants to see & enact the destruction of the entire town ( ESPECIALLY since he is an angel, he feels he is still allowed to have his angel TF despite his corrupt lifestyle because Virgo genuinely believes in his plans ). Believes that the town has ran the last of its cycle and has to restart again, but the only way to do so is to decimate it, regardless of how many deaths & lives are uprooted. Just happily cause a cataclysm like event like Life is Strange!! ( He can't cause a weather disaster, but if there is a will there is way! )

13. How do they deal with pain (physical or emotional)?

PHYSICALLY, Cody plays it off very nonchalantly. Man could be bleeding from a stab wound and he's like "hey it's no biggie. anyway does anyone have a first aid-" Because he knows that if he succumbs to the pressure that's showing off a vulnerability, and that he is someone able to be affected, and he'd rather DIE than let others see that side of him. Just plays it cool, even if he is in a situation where he can't see help immediately.

EMOTIONALLY... that's a different story. If Cody is dealing with emotional pain, the PC would definitely notice that Cody has been working at the Pub for longer hours than usual. He's a workaholic and likes to drown himself in work & business so after a certain amount of time, whatever caused him pain? He could care less about!! He's already indifferent ( numb ) to it!

However, if someone tried to push it while he's like this, before the window of time closed down, it's a very rare moment to see Cody.... like actually upset. Will probably snap at the person, like "What is it!? What is it that you need so bad that you can't drop it!?" grabbing their face close to his to make sure they get the hint that he's not in a playful mood. Which, honestly, can go in multiple directions because of how volatile Cody is in this state.

[kittygawa--jr]

UR JACK ALPHABET WAS SO GOOD. could i req am nsfw alphabet with mordecai pleez... (with a focus on him bottoming if ur willing. looks at u with big ole eyes). if ur not feeling mordy then timothy? ty ^^

- @kingsuchus

Mordecai NSFW Alphabet | 1.5k Words | Not Proofread

hiii 👋 restarting bl1 made me hit prime missin' mordy hours, so here <3 thank u! i had fun, i hope you enjoy :)

REQUESTS ARE CLOSED. please be patient with me while i empty out my inbox!

A - Aftercare: He is a man that gets Pooped after sex to me. After everything's said and done, he much prefers to lay flat on his back and have a smoke before passing out. He certainly isn't opposed to hugging an arm around someone while they sleep together, though. Just don't expect much from him, and don't expect him to want much either.

B - Body Part: For sure an arms/hands guy to me. He'll act like he's not flustered by someone being able to fit their hands around his waist or wrists or whatever, but one can usually tell by his nervous laughter afterwards that he's still thinking about it. I've always reslly liked the visual of Brick flexing and him sitting up there like a crow's nest. He should be able to do that with more people, and I knowwww he loves that shit.

C - Cum: He's a tiny load blaster. It's very anticlimactic, because I think he also makes a bit of a show of his orgasm.

D - Dirty Secret: Mordecai is 100% a man that struggles to get it up. Like even not considering the alcoholism that comes later, you would have to give so much attention to his dick n balls that maybe it's just better to go for the ass.

E - Experience: I would say like... medium-ishh, I think. He's still got parts to explore more thoroughly, but he's confident in what he enjoys.

F - Fav Position: Flat on his back, knees to his shoulders. He will also take face down ass up but his hips gotta be held up near the end. I think his legs are prone to giving out.

G - Goofy: Definitely more on the serious side 👍 If someone tries to be more silly with him it's a one way ticket to groanville. To bitch 'n moan ville. I don't think it's the worst thing in the world for him, but he does prefer not being taken out of the experience.

H - Hair: I flip flop between him taking pride in trimming or simply not giving a shit. But allow me to indulge myself: he is a bird man. He needs to do a little preening to feel sane.

I - Intimacy: He will certainly get wrapped up in the moment if that's the direction things are taking. I think momentum matters for Mordecai, so anything that he can just glide with will work. Thinking about things is for the post nut guilt 👍

J - Jack Off: I think he's a very practical masturbator. He jerks off to get rid of headaches or get to sleep if he's struggling. I think, in large, though, he's bored of his own hands.

K - Kinks: Intox is definitely one of them. To me. Get him too drunk to think before sex and the world is your oyster, really! I think it's the onky way he can properly conceptualize himself as "powerless," which is fun for sex but not always for the ego. Getting drunk just lets him feel the shame over drunkenness rather than being put below someone. Because I think there's just a little shame there.

L - Location: I think he'll take it anywhere honestly!! Against a wall, in bed, on a table, in the dirt, cramped into a tiny space... I'm not saying he won't complain ever, but there are things he could be pickier about.

M - Motivation (Turn-Ons): Size differences are always good. I think he can admire brutality, given his choices of company most times, but try not to direct it towards him too much. I think he also desires a partner to have some sort of skillset they're good with. Be able to show something off to him. Once again: he is a bird man, he likes it when people peacock towards him.

N - No (Turn-Offs): Do not touch his hair, do not sneak up on him, no degredation 🙅‍♀️

O - Oral: I don't think he's the best at head, but I think he can be down there for a loooong ass time. A sniper's skillset includes holding one's breath and sitting still for a long time, and he's a damn good sniper.

P - Pace: He takes things pretty slow. Working him up takes time, getting him close takes even longer, though his orgasms come hard and fast. It may as well be a screamer.

Q - Quickie: He's such a sucker for them, especially if his brain is already a bit foggy. I think he makes a kinda huffy show of going "Really? Right now?" every time someone asks, but I can rarely see him actually saying no. He's always begrudgingly working his fly down.

R - Risk: I think he's on the safer side. I can't see him ever proper enjoying getting hurt or hurting other people, but I still think spicing up the locations sex is done in will be more than enough for him, usually. Most he'd allow is you scratching him up a bit; he can take it, he has a Bloodwing.

S - Stamina: I think when his focus is only the act of bottoming, he can last a good while, but if he has to properly command his body much, I can see him needing a lot more breaks. He already does sooooo much jumping around and kiting out in the battlefield and you're gonna make his tired ass do any of the work on himself, too?

T - Toys: Especially with a partner that prefers danger and thrill, I could see bondage/a bit of petplay being brought into the bedroom via toys. He did date Moxxi so obviously he must also live and die by the strap 👍

U - Unfair: Oh he haaaaates teasing. I don't think he can see the fun in it and he would hate to be teased, or to tease. Especially while bottoming, I think his ego is just a little too tall to not be writhing and squirming and kicking if one tries.

V - Volume: Not quiet, but I wouldn't say he's very vocal. Most of his noises would be low grunts and groans or fairly breathy. He's trained himself to be very very quiet. Even his orgasms are pretty silent, it's habit for him to make his voice break and cut out once he cums. You might be able to just barely hear the start of a moan before he does, though.

W - Wildcard: His mask looks like a falconry hood. Let's 👏 stick 👏 Mordy 👏 in 👏 a 👏 GIMP MASK 👏👏👏👏👏👏 Take away the sniper's most important senses of sound and sight. Let's see what happens. It'll be fun I prommy.

X - X-Ray: Bone skinny, any fat is distributed to his lower gut from alcohols. He has some muscle to him, however it's almost entirely upper body. Light pectorals and biceps. He doesn't have a lot of hair, it's mostly very light and curly, but there is still some on his chest, with a thin and curly happy trail that mists his legs in light hairs too. He's armed to the teeth with battle scars, but what good Vault Hunter isn't? Plenty of them are from training Bloodwing, even. Under the mask, his wrinkles and lines cut deep. He has heavy bag and very untanned skin, even compared to the rest of him. I think his brows are thinned from the near constant contact with the leather. I also see him as having kinda dry skin but idk.

Y - Yearning: Oh he is down bad but it only comes out when he actually gets with someone, or is drunk. I think he's a very antisocial man and struggles at times with connecting with people. I also believe this is something he's prone to beating himself up over, so his desire only burns harder as a result. I think now that he has friends amongst the other Vault Hunters, his main issue with himself is "fuuuuuccckk I suck so much I can't pull any bitches that stick around for more than a night." as opposed to, "fuuuucck I suck so much I've only ever gotten a bird to like me." Even though he's the one trying to close himself off to puff himself up as cooler than he is.

Z - Zzz: He takes a little while to get to sleep afterwards, but he's pretty prone to it, especially after some drinks. He's a very tired man, his body will take any excuse to rest.

[littleslithewhump]

Day 19 - edging

I overwhelm him with my hands. Petting every part of him, his bruised and ripped-open back, his skinny neck, his bony ass, his ruined shoulders and slim arms. I bite into the soft juncture between his neck and shoulder when I spill inside him. He’s mine. Mine.

I keep biting down, breaking skin, tasting his blood, as I catch my breath and pull out. He’s whimpering in pained little sobs. But he’s hard. 

“I knew you liked this, faggot.” I murmur in his ear. “You’ve been begging me to wreck you ever since we met.” 

“I…I don’t…I want…” his voice is breathy, pathetic, his incomplete thoughts broken apart by his crying. Now that I’m satisfied, his self-absorbed sadness just aggravates me.

“Stop crying.”

He gulps at air. 

I shove my hand over his mouth. “Stop feeling bad for yourself. You’ve had it easy your whole fucking life.”

His wet breath makes me shove his face into the pillows, leveraging upright and covering his nostrils with my other fingers. Finally, he’s quiet. 

“Little queer makes it all the way up the food chain, not a thing in his way. Now you’re where you belong and you won’t shut up about it.”

He grabs at my arms, pulling, unable to breathe until I let him. The thought cools me down. 

When I free his nostrils, he heaves in air again, rapidly drying his eyes on his forearm. 

“Good. Now come on and keep quiet.”

He stands on shaky legs, like a fawn. I turn him and fold his arms comfortably behind his back, wrist to elbow and forearms together, before linking his manacles together with a single u-line lock. 

I hook a finger under his collar and tug him to the bathroom.    

“Stand here.” 

I direct him to hover by the bathroom sink and run the bath. I speak over the sound of warm water flooding through the pipes. 

“See, pet. I’m good to you. We’re going to wash, and tonight you’ll even sleep upstairs.” 

I settle in the bath, and direct him to sit in front of me, his deliciously marred back and neck, purple and blue and red and green and yellow under his collar, right in front of my eyes. 

“Lean back, pet.” 

He glances back, clearly hesitating, so I pull him to me. I nestle his head on my shoulder, next to mine, stretching out and exposing his chest for me to feel and soap. It makes my cock twitch in renewed interest–to tweak his sore nipples, to press the spaces between his ribs, to grasp the soft-ish parts of his hips. To poke and prod at his sore shoulder.

He’s softened a bit, so I grasp him, holding him tightly at the base of his cock.  

“You want this, don’t you, pet? You want to feel good after your punishments?”

He groans, arching his back against me. I place my other hand around his neck, pressing the soft parts of his jaw toward me. He’s hardening again. 

“Good boy. Just keep…quiet.” 

He tries. It’s almost sweet to watch him fail–so I savor it, letting him go completely when he moans or whines, only restarting when he manages to get himself back under control. 

He fails most when he gets close to orgasm, when his spine goes lax but his thighs start to tremble.

After the third, fourth, fifth time edging him, my own cock is hard again, so I roll my hips against his ass, letting go of his neck to press his hip close to mine. It makes silent tears crawl down his face, makes him let out a damning little whimper. I feel his hands clenching between us.  

I let go of his cock. The sound he makes is pathetic.  

He bites down on his own lip.

“Good plan, pet. I wonder if it’ll help.” 

I start to jerk him off again, enjoying the view down his xylophone ribs to his trembling legs. Something sweet about seeing him so weak but so desperately crawling toward a bit of pleasure. 

His breath speeds up, pushing in and out his nose at a rapid pace. 

“You’re being so good, pet.” 

The words make his brows knit together. It’s cute. He’s so close–I can tell. I know his body better than he himself does. 

I let him go. 

The noise he makes is anguished. 

“Ha, ha,” I murmur in his ear. 

I see a trace of something cross his face. Anger? Indignance?

“You feel annoyed at me, pet? Not about me beating or fucking or owning you, but about not letting you come?” I ask. 

He tries to turn his face from me, but I push him to face me again with a finger. “No, sir,” he whispers. But I can see red flood his features–not the red of a bruise, but of a blush.  

“Do you want to come?” I prod. It’s somewhat new. Forcing him to speak his submission in a way I haven’t required him to before. 

He doesn’t answer, so I shake his shoulder in my hand. He winces. 

 “Go on, pet. Tell me you want to come.” 

He swallows, his stupid skinny throat straining under the pressure. 

“You won’t until you tell me you want to.” 

His fists open and close against me. He sniffles.

“What? You’re gonna cry? Going to cry because I won’t let you come?”

I dig my thumb, firmly, into his shoulder, kneading it and kneading it until it draws a tortured little sound from him. 

“Please…” he whispers. “Please let me come.” 

So I let go of his shoulder. 

When he gets close this time, I keep going, whispering praises to him. 

He still has fresh tears on his face when he finishes, his release on his belly and floating in the water. He lies languid against me. And he is, this time, silent.

Taglist:

@whumped-by-glitter

[makethosenarratorsfight]

UNRELIABLE NARRATORS; SIDE C

Dean Winchester Propaganda:

Rewrote his own memory about his friend dying. I know this seems weak and unexpected but there actually a ton of stuff i just can't quote it.

This isn't even about The Winchesters its about him rewriting his memories of Cas staying in purgatory and of his own trauma (courtesy of his shitty dad). He's not obviously an unreliable narrator but he very much is one.

The Narrator Propaganda:

Just... Just listen to the "unfunny" clip, what's more to say, vote for the gay old guy

Depending on the ending, he can be

Spoilers I guess??? He's always trying to guide Stanley to the outcome HE wants, which is a very, very small chunk of the game where the player just obeys everything and doesn't experience anything else. Obeying Narrator to a T will win you the "Freedom" ending, where Stanley can finally leave the office building, and Narrator will wax on about how Stanley's "happy" and "finally free to live at last". ...exceeeept, on completion, Stanley will spawn right back in the building as though nothing happened, restarting the adventure all over again. The truth is that Stanley will never be free, regardless of what the Narrator says. Stanley is trapped in the building and will stay trapped no matter what. This truth can only be acknowledged if you're defiant, and even then, I may be mistaken but I'm pretty sure the Narrator never fully admits this??? The museum ending has a WHOLE DIFFERENT narrator explain their mutually fucked circumstances. The dishonest factors can increase in other ways from the player's input (for example, the Narrator might say "Stanley walked through the left door", but the player can use their input to defy this statement and go through the right one instead, therefore making the Narrator's statement inherently dishonest and the Narrator will get pissy about it, changing the outcome for that path). Sometimes he'll misdirect when he's petulant, especially if the player is directly defying his instructions, which makes the game feel like a game of tug-rope for control at points. I want to say there are times where he directly attempts to trick the player but admittedly I can't think of an exact instance. Plus you know, the Narrator has a large ego and always talks big about things like his importance and integrity and whatnot so who knows how much of that is even sincere and how much is a sad veneer, but that's getting into overanalysis territory and my fingers hurt so let's leave this here. I hope this was coherent.

he quite literally rewrites the story whenever he has issues with the direction stanley starts to go in, i do not know how to explain it better than that

He is literally the narrator, and he constantly tries to mislead and lie to Stanley through the narration to get him back on the story’s proper path

He constantly narrates what Stanley is feeling as if it is the truth, when it is not. He speaks as a authority, and while he is one, he is definitely not reliable.

[illarian-rambling]

⚫️ for the OC ask game, for any character you’d like? Preferably one whose answer is a little morally ambiguous if you have any :)

⚫️ Black- When was a moment in your OC's life that they felt the most in control and secure? Was it gained through negative or positive means?

Morally ambiguous, huh? Well, I guess I get the chance to talk about that time Twenari almost became the BBEG of Honor's Outcasts >:)

(This will have spoilers, but I'll keep it vague)

So, at the end of book one, the quartet was in the Araunian desert reeling from an assassination attempt gone wrong. Izjik had just called on the power of End to kill their target and directly afterwards, she and Twenari had the clever idea of using Twenari’s magic to create body doubles of them in order to fake their own deaths and avoid the heat from the assassination. Pretty smart, except for the fact that by the time they left these perfect copies of their dead bodies there, Sepo and Djek had gotten worried and snuck back in to see if the ladies needed back up. I think you can see where this is going...

Suffice to say, Sepo took the sight of Izjik and Twenari dead on the ground very poorly and let his divine voice off its leash in one massive scream. This set quite the fire, but also nearly killed him because sirens really aren't supposed to channel the Voice without words to shape it. Djek dragged him out of the inferno and it was now that Izjik and Twenari returned after seeing the blaze in the distance. Everyone was very happy to see that they were all alive... except they weren't. By this time, Sepo had drowned on his own blood, and his heart had stopped.

Izjik went all but catatonic at this point. Djek directed Twenari to use her telekinesis to restart Sepo’s heart like a more exact form of CPR, but she just didn't have enough magical energy left.

However, there's this thing about the Araunian desert. People say it's 'poisonous', but in truth, it's home to a massive pool of rotting magic. More magical waste than ten thousand mages could produce in a lifetime. Enough to burn the world and everyone on it to cinders if properly channeled. Enough to make a new god or tear down an old one.

With no other option and despite the fact that the resulting sorcerer’s poison could easily kill her too, Twenari drew on this power and willed Sepo back to life. It was so easy. She wielded the power of a god, and when it came time to let it to, she couldn't.

For context, Twenari had escaped her mother’s clutches mere months ago. She was still being actively hunted by the woman. With that power in her hands, Twenari realized she could make it so no such injustices ever happened to people like her and her friends ever again. She realized that she could make it so people like Undeta were never born, she could make it so tyrants like the Silver Sovereign would never rise to power. She could make the world a utopia in the palm of her hand. She just needed to prune away the bad stuff first.

It was only when the pool of runoff magic started talking to her that Twenari realized what a slippery slope she was on. That if she instated herself as the mage-goddess of the world, then she'd be no better than Undeta, treating people like pawns and deciding who could live or die on a whim. She gave up the magic of Araun quickly before she could go back on her decision and passed out before she could reach out again.

Twenari doesn't really like to talk about this experience with her friends. She thinks being so tempted by it makes her like her mother deep down. And even if it frightens her, that moment will always be the only one where she felt truly in control of her life and destiny.

I think there's another universe out there where she didn't let go and Illaros is ruled by an immortal, omnipotent sorcerer-goddess who can see into everyone's mind, ready to strike them down for any evil thought, while the soul of whatever the Araunian runoff pool really is whispers in her ear. But it's not this universe, thankfully.

Thanks for the ask! This was a fun one - I always like talking about how Twenari balances massive amounts of power with morality :)

[dragondevinity]

Life stopped, life restarted in another world..?

Prologue

Third POV

Dying was less painful than she had expected…

Readers POV

‘I know I’m dead… but why am I in a forest..? I hope my mother survived, and I hope she’s okay..’ I thought while looking around.

‘Why do I have a tunic like dress on..? I swear I was wearing something else before I died… is this what happens when you get to heaven..?’ I concluded after looking at my clothes.

‘Why do I suddenly hear yelling..?’ I thought before getting up to follow the yells.

It took what felt like five minutes to get closer… ‘wait, they’re yelling about a beast..?’ I thought before grabbing a decent sized branch and booking it to the one yelling.

???’s POV

I was yelling at the dragon that was trying to take my best friends arm, while trying to kill the beast, before I heard a yell and saw something… amazing.

‘She’s charging at the beast without hesitation…! But, who is this woman…?’ I thought confused before seeing the dragon let go of my friends arm.

“Are you boys okay..? I didn’t really see the thing attacking you, was it a giant bird..? I can help bandage you up if you want.?” The woman asked kindly towards me and my friend…

“Thank you deary, that would be helpful” my friend replied with pain in his voice.

“Ah! Here let me see that, yep! Here this should work for now until we can get you more help!” She said while wrapping a torn piece of her sleeve around his arm.

“Ah! Where are my manners! My name is Gobber, and this is Stoick the Vast, the Chief of Berk!” Gobber told the woman while she helped him up.

“That I am, pleasure to meet you miss..?” I replied getting out of my stupor.

“Oh! I’m Y/n, it’s a pleasure to meet you both as well!” She said with a lilt in her voice.

‘She must be new around here..? I’ve never seen her before in the village, maybe she was shipwrecked..?’ I thought while staring at her for a moment.

Readers POV

‘Holy fuck, what the fuck???!?! Am I in how to train your dragon??!? I thought I was actually dead..!! But I was taken here instead!! Okay I can’t panic…’ I thought while introducing myself to Stoick and Gobber.

“Come on lassie, you’re coming back to the village with us” Gobber says while he starts walking off.

“Well, let’s go, best not to keep Gobber waiting” Stoick says before leading me in the same direction as Gobber’s going.

��Alright, sure..?” I replied following after them both.

*skip to when the 3 arrived*

“Welcome to Berk Lassie” Gobber says as we all enter the village.

“As the chief I welcome you to the village, now, follow” Stoick says before leading me somewhere.

‘Wait, is he leading me to his hut..? I’m so confused. Wait, shit, am I in trouble..??!?!! I don’t want to be!!!’ I thought starting to panic.

“Come, I want you to meet my wife Valka” Stoick says keeping the door open for me to enter the hut.

“Valka! Can you come here please?” He nearly shouts out.

“Coming! I’ll be down in a moment!” Valka replied from upstairs.

“Yes Stoick..?” Valka says before spotting me.

“This is Y/n, she saved Gobber from a dragon that was attacking him… she’s also new to Berk.” Stoick says while gesturing towards me.

“Hello Mrs Valka, it’s a pleasure to meet you!” I say with a slight bow.

“You saved Gobber from a dragon..? How?” Valka asks confused.

“I heard yelling and grabbed a branch and charged the dragon, Gobber got away with a wound that will at worst scar.” I replied softly.

“Thank you Y/n, Gobber is a dear friend to me and Stoick, so thank you.” Valka replied with a smile.

“Chief, may I have permission to live on Berk please..? Before I helped you and Gobber I was shipwrecked for days… I would like to stay if that’s okay..?” I asked nearly jumbling everything up.

“Welcome to Berk, we’ll have a hut built for you soon if possible” Stoick replies without a fight.

“You can stay here with us until it’s built if you want Y/n? We can get to know each other better while you are!” Valka questions with some happiness on her face.

I smiled at this, “if that’s also okay with Stoick..? I’m more than okay with it either way!” I replied with hope.

“That works…” Stoick says.

“Come! I must show you around the village!” Valka says before dragging me out the door…

“Okay!” I replied happily.

‘I hope this life is good’ I thought happily.

[shippingmyworld]

Three hours into Veilguard so I'm spamming yall with pictures I've taken of my Rook, Oscar Thorne. He's a pessimistic punch-first and ask-questions-later Grey Warden Warrior.

(who I'm lowkey in love with??? I didn't mean to make him this pretty)

Random thoughts about the game so far below the cut (spoiler free of course):

HOLY SHIT COMBAT IS SO MUCH FUN!!! The prerelease footage did not do this game justice. I'm barely level 5 with like 2% of the skill tree unlocked, and I'm struggling to not race through the game just to get to the next combat encounter. I admit I'm a huge fan of action rpgs, so the new combat system might have clicked faster for me, but if you're not a fan of this gameplay, I wouldn't worry. I'm playing on normal difficulty, and most enemies go down to a single basic chain attack. I'm debating restarting my game to play at a higher difficulty, just so that combat encounters last longer.

Speaking of the skill tree, it looks like you can respec any time without penalty. I invested all my points into defensive skills that reward perfect guards at first but then refunded them towards more aggressive skills instead.

I am so thankful I haven't encountered the Hinterlands 2 lmao. The zones I've explored so far feel more direct, but still have small areas off the main path i can explore, which can trigger companion dialogue or reward me with extra resources

Dialouge has been a hit or a miss for me. The delivery on a handful of lines makes them come off as either melodramatic or emotionless. Admittedly it's a lot of Hardings dialouge that's lacking, but she's not the only perpetrator. Neve is very melodramatic and Rook made me cringe in his reaction to meeting Bellara. Its not terrible, but you do notice it enough that you wonder how it got approved. I will take it over the 2 second pause that Inquisition always had between sentences though.

One thing I do love about the dialouge is the companions actually talk to each other and react to you. One of the Warriors charged attacks let's you do a double spin attack and I managed to take out four Darkspawn at once, and Harding shouted "Save some for the rest of us Rook!"

Not to validate the dudebros, but the Darkspawn designs are a bit goofy and less scary, was kinda disappointed by the ogre. I also miss the old Demon desgins, if im honest. This game definitely leans far more heavily into magical fantasy aesthetics, where as Inquisition felt more like a high medieval fantasy, and origins and 2 hit more of the edgy dark fantasy (like the witcher series) that i think all the greifers are chasing. The graphics and aestheics aren't a deal breaker though, and I quickly got used to them. Plus the deeper you get into the game and closer to blighted stuff, you do see the darker and edgier graphics come front and center.

I can not tell you how much I appreciate that the dialogue wheel is no longer just the three options of "Good and Rightious, Sarcastic and Out of Character, or Complete and Utter Asshole." Many times you're given 4-5 options to choose from, and even when it's only 3 it's not always the traditional top middle and bottom options like past games, sometimes you can choose from sad, shocked, and angry or joking, positive, and shocked options. Plus, I think they did a better job of making those options, and your companions' reactions flow better than pervious games. IMO, Inquisition relied too much on the "In any case," line in order for your companions or advisors to just brush off the Inquisitors response, like they were just there to make a witty one-liner joke and move on. Plus there's less of the 'Missleading Options' in Veildguard than previous DA games. Like Inquisition specifically felt like if you ever picked the bottom option, it always came out more aggressive than the prompt suggested it would. (Best example I can think of is that there's been no "Glass Him" problems so far lol)

[lucy4242564]

.cowboy like me.

Chapter 11.

I end up in crisis, tale as old as time

~One day I’ll watch as you’re leaving. And life will lose all it’s meaning. For the last time~

Her ribs were heavy and aching, she needed out of them.

Anytime she tried sinking her nails into the skin along her abdomen though, a rough pair of hands gripped hers to pull them away.

After the fourth time she flailed backwards to kick him away from her.

TW// Attempted kidnapping, gun violence, severe panic attacks, minor physical abuse, minor verbal abuse, and depression.

This chapter is SO essential to Lilah’s development, especially once we get into the main series. I have never nearly been kidnapped, but that’s the only warning I haven’t experienced- all that to say, I’m basing Lilah’s immediate reactions and panic attacks on my own. It flowed better than trying to create a false narrative.

The scariest day of her life thus far started off as a day she had been waiting on since February.

Spring Break 2006

Lilah and Daryl were going to Chattanooga to spend a week together. It would be their very first vacation together and it was long over due. When he brought up the subject initially it had actually made her second guess whether it was true or not. Unfortunately, she was about 15 minutes away when her car began jumping down the highway causing her to pull over on the shoulder. Despite how cute it was, she was beginning to have this issue with it a lot. It would randomly begin sputtering before stalling out completely. Sometimes it would restart, sometimes it wouldn’t.

Today, it wouldn’t.

Of course.

Pulling her phone out proved useless considering she had zero signal. That was probably the worst thing about the highway leading out of town and to her lover’s house. She let out a forced sigh before shoving a few important things in her purse and starting a walk back in the direction towards the busier part of things. If she could just get a little bar, her life would be so much easier about now.

A lot less nerve-racking too.

Although she had become more accustomed to the Georgian woods, it didn’t change the eeriness that surrounded her within in the trees as dusk settled. Lilah still thought back on the folktales her grandpa would tell her as a child.

They haunted her.

Which is why when a set of headlights came up from behind and pulled off to the side of the road a ways in front of her, her body relaxed some. It was a small town and she was really hoping a familiar face was going to get out of the truck. When Lilah didn’t recognize the man her heart sank low in her chest, but something about his smile made Lilah feel comfortable. “Hey sweetheart, ya havin’ car trouble?” The man asked walking closer.

“Uh, yeah,” she smiled kindly at him. “Just trying to get signal so I can call my boyfriend.”

The man wore a ball cap on his head with the letter ‘w’ in a font Lilah wasn’t familiar with. He stood at average height and was built larger than average. She couldn’t make out any intense details due to the suns shifting brightness, but the wrinkles around his face had her pinpointing he was about her dads age.

“Yeah, signal out here is always shifty. Seems like the only time ya need it though is when this stuff happens to ya.” She laughed lightly at his comment because of how well it fit her situation. “I’m headin’ into town, I can haul ya in so y’ain’t gotta walk so far.”

Lilah considered the offer. It would be about a 30 minute walk back, by then the sun would have disappeared and she’d be stuck walking in the dark. Not wanting to take too long to reply she gave him a quick yes before making her way towards him.

“You from round here?” He asked as she walked up to him.

“Kind of, I go to Georgia State and my boyfriend lives over this way.” She replied, pulling out her phone checking for signal as she began walking a little bit behind him.

“Ain’t it still a little too cold to be wearing them shorts?” The man questioned, looking back at her briefly. The comment took her by surprise and she wanted to respond, but the blinking of cell service had her stopping in her tracks. He must have noticed because before he got too far ahead of her, he paused and turned to face her.

“Sorry,” Lilah didn’t want to seem rude. “I just got a bar.”

It was then that she became keenly aware of the man slowly stalking towards her.

“Ya might lose it.” He mentioned. His demeanor was shifting and Lilah got the sudden feeling she was in danger.

But fuck she didn’t want to lose this signal.

“Yeah, calling right now before I do.” She tried laughing off, her feet remained glued to the ground.

A sigh echoed in the empty area. “Now why’d’ya have to go do that.” The man lunged towards her with his arms out causing Lilah to drop her phone, her mouth going dry.

She bolted back towards her car, the man hot on her heels.

Remembering the small pistol she kept in her purse, she slung it in front of her, trying to dig for it and run at the same time.

Fear gripped her body when she stumbled over her own feet. She didn’t fall, but it slowed her down. Her hand gripped the gun and dropped the purse, she needed it out of its holster.

How was this man keeping up?

She hadn’t dressed to the nines, she was only going to her boyfriends house. It didn’t shock her when the man’s hand reached for her cheap tank top that it tore partially off. She was thankful for it though.

It bought her a little more distance.

The gun was free.

It was in her hand, aimed at the man who’d slowed down once he caught sight of the weapon.

Lilah was a good shot. She practiced.

Why did she practice?

Was her determination to be the best shot a forewarning from the universe?

If it was, why couldn’t she pull the trigger?

Another set of headlights appeared behind her and the man began backing away. They were smaller this time and the engine that carried them was louder.

If the newcomers were here to harm her —this time, she’d let them. At least they were creeping up instead of falsifying themselves as a friendly Samaritan. “Hey blondie, why don’tcha lower that there gun ya got if ya ain’t gonna blow that sucker’s brains out.” A familiar voice sounded.

Merle Dixon.

Since their bar fight, they hadn’t exactly gotten off on the right foot. It was three months afterwards when they met again and had Daryl not been there, it may have ended up being a similar scenario. After a long talk with Daryl and picking her battles, Lilah reluctantly took the snide comments from him for a while until he decided he liked her better when she ‘whatn’t such a pussy’. Which naturally led to an argument, but resulted in somewhat of a truce.

They weren’t exactly the best of friends, but she didn’t dread being around him.

“That one’s crazy!” The man shouted with his hands up, still backing away ever so slowly.

Lilah’s senses were in overdrive, so when hands came up to guide the weapon down a shot rang through the air. She heard a raspy laugh behind her before the gun was removed from her hands. If Merle hadn’t intervened, she knew she’d have shot the man dead. Instead, dirt flew in the air as the bullet hit the grassy patch beside him.

“Shoulda been quicker’n that.” Merle said, amusement layering over his voice. “You aight Barbie?” He asked her. His tone had changed into a menacing one while he eyes narrowed on the frightened man a few feet in front of them.

“Yeah,” Lilah whispered. “Yeah, I’m good.” Her response was to Merle, but she felt it was a confirmation to herself more.

“I’d take the chance and dip on outta town if I were you my friend.” He told the guy. “My baby brother ain’t no hotshot or nothin’, but he gave me a nice shiner over his girl.”

The unlikely pair rode in silence, the sound of the motorcycle clouding any noise around them. It was her first time on a bike, but her thoughts were too busy for her to really take in the moment.

Lilah was still shaken up by the prior events. She’d nearly been kidnapped, only escaping due to pure luck that her shirt ripped. The off-handed comment about her shorts that the man made rung in her mind. He was probably going to rape her.

She was about to go with him willingly.

Despite all of that, the fact that she almost killed him is what had her sitting in a blank oblivion.

The almost.

Her life was in imminent danger and she hesitated. What if Merle hadn’t shown up?

“Sure y’aight?” He asked as he pulled behind Daryl’s truck and shut the bike off.

Lilah nodded in response. She didn’t trust herself to talk. In all honesty, she was shocked Merle didn’t have more to say. They both talked a lot in general— motormouths is what Daryl called them, so maybe there was a chance he knew more about her silence then he let on. When the front door opened and Daryl walked from the porch to the yard in confusion, Lilah wanted to run up and tell him everything that happened. She didn’t though; her mind wasn’t functioning normally. So she walked past him, ignoring the questions that were directed towards her, and into the house.

“I could see Barbie’s pink car a mile away! It’s a wonder she didn’t put a bullet through’em, that girl got to skittish.” Lilah heard Merle in the living room, explaining what he’d rode up on, while she laid motionless in bed.

He wasn’t wrong. She was too skittish.

She should’ve just pulled the stupid trigger.

Lilah lost any real sense of time as she sunk into the familiar scent of Daryl’s bed. A scent that could’ve become a distant memory had things went another way earlier. The bedroom door creaked open and she saw Daryl’s hips standing over the bed before it sunk down under his knees. He shifted himself to pull her into his chest, her head tucking under his chin.

“Yer safe now.” Was all he had to say for her dam to break.

A cluster of head shakes turned into loud weeps. Lilah pushed against him to sit up and begin clawing at her chest. It felt like her heart was going to tear out of it, like she needed to help it escape before it burst through.

Daryl’s hands shot up immediately, taking hers into his own. She fought against him as tears streamed down her face. “Let me go.” Lilah repeated, long after her hands were released.

“Lilah.” She saw him reach back out and shoved him backwards, firmly hitting his chest several times.

“Don’t touch me!”

Why was she screaming?

Why was she afraid?

Nothing made sense.

If Lilah had been in her right mind, she may have paused and apologized to the man she’d began assaulting. She wasn’t though, and he understood. He hated that he understood.

So he took it. Daryl let her ride through the motions and took each hit and each curse she threw at him with a grain of salt.

Lilah couldn’t gather any of her thoughts; and she had plenty.

They were everywhere but no where all at once.

Why was Daryl just sitting there? He was just watching her as she was dying.

She wailed for him to help her, to hold her, but when he tried she pushed him away again. Telling him not to touch her and swatting at his chest.

She’d never been like this before. Her mind wasn’t even forming the right words that came out her mouth.

Lilah thought she was dying— knew she was.

Her ribs were heavy and aching, she needed out of them.

Anytime she tried sinking her nails into the skin along her abdomen though, a rough pair of hands gripped hers to pull them away. After the fourth time she flailed backwards to kick him away from her.

Why wouldn’t he stop?

She needed to breathe.

Lilah hated it.

She hated him.

She should’ve felt horrible when the words left her mouth but she didn’t.

He still wouldn’t quit trying to stop her though.

God, she just wanted it all to stop.

A shower sounded nice.

Her legs ,while wobbly but still determined, carried her to the bathroom.

Why was she being followed?

He was right behind her, asking questions she couldn’t answer. All she wanted was a shower.

When he entered behind her she turned around, aggressively pushing him back and telling him to leave her alone.

The door slammed and the lock clicked.

She was getting a shower.

Lilah needed a shower, but her clothes wouldn’t come off.

They were stuck.

She left them on.

The cold water painfully hit her skin in a way that made her feel again.

Lilah felt the raw emotion of existing and instead of feeling like she was dying, she felt terrified.

Terrified of what happened to her hours earlier.

Terrified of it happening again.

Terrified to blink for too long.

Terrified to be alone.

Her thoughts were slowly beginning to form more coherently. She wanted to exist with Daryl again.

She didn’t dry off or even let the dripping stop before she opened the door. He stood there with his head down. When he saw the door shift from his peripheral vision his chin tilted back up.

Lilah was in front of him sopping wet. Her clothes clung to her skin like a second skin and she was shivering.

She wanted to apologize to him.

He didn’t deserve any of the harshness she’d bestowed upon him.

“Sorry.” Spilled from her lips repeatedly as he held her in his arms.

Daryl kept shushing her, but it was fruitless. Her apologies echoed through the house.

Even as he began removing her soaked clothes and replacing them with dry ones. She felt terrible.

Lilah wanted him to know she didn’t mean any of it. That she said it because her thoughts weren’t right.

They still weren’t right though. She remained silent, but obliged to every unspoken request he asked of her for the remainder of the evening.

The silence was her new comfort.

Air filled her lungs now.

She wasn’t dying anymore.

She just didn’t feel alive again yet.

Waking up alone, Lilah wondered if maybe everything had just been a dream. If her brain might have had an overly active imagination for the night. The more time that passed the more she realized it hadn’t just been a dream. That everything had in fact been very real.

Where was Daryl?

Lilah rolled out of bed and wandered to the living room.

No Daryl.

Had he left her?

Her mind raced back to the previous night and felt horrible for how she’d treated him. She was almost grateful for his absence as her eyes filled with tears again. If she looked outside she’d know whether he’d left or not. She just wasn’t sure if she was fully prepared to not see his truck there. Still, she needed to.

He wouldn’t have really left her would he?

Opening the front door, Lilah’s heart softened. He hadn’t left her, at least not for long. Daryl and Merle Dixon were both looking under the hood of her jacked up car. From where she stood, she could see grease covering Merle’s hands. Daryl’s back was towards her, but she admired the way his arms moved in the sleeveless shirt.

It didn’t take long for her to be noticed by the older Dixon. “Hey Barbie, I gotch’er phone out here.” He called out as he reached into his pockets. Lilah wanted to roll her eyes at the nickname, but she just couldn’t. Her mind felt better than it had, she was actually thinking coherently. There was something missing within her though.

She felt empty.

Trotting off the porch as Daryl turned to face her, Lilah went over to see exactly what it was they were doing. “How ya feelin’?” Her boyfriend asked. His tone was reserved in front of his brother, it was a habit.

A smile was the best he got as a response.

She found out they were figuring out what had been causing her car to stall out so often. Daryl was adamant about not bringing it to the shop before knowing exactly what it was. He didn’t trust anyone but himself. Lilah didn’t care what happened. She’d need it to drive back to college though, so it didn’t really matter either way.

Daryl and Lilah never went to Tennessee.

They never actually did anything that week.

Her car ended up in the shop for several days, it was engine failure. At least it something like that. Lilah hadn’t paid much attention to what Daryl said it was. The only thing she cared about was going back to school. To have something to focus on.

“L, darlin’, please talk to me.” Daryl took another week off work to stay with her. He didn’t want to leave her alone. Not yet. They were laying in her bed after she finished classes that day. It was what they’d been doing like clockwork since the Sunday they arrived. Lilah went to class, she came home for lunch, she left again for class, she came home and got in the bed. Their exchanges were brief and Daryl hated it; hated she was dealing with so much.

“What do you want to talk about?” She wasn’t oblivious to their current situation, but she didn’t have much to say. Last time she had a breakdown over the event that had transpired she was awful to Daryl.

“Lilah, I leave Sunday and I don’t wanna go with you still like this.”

Her eyes were becoming clouded with tears. She felt terrible hearing how desperate he sounded. Through the last two weeks Daryl had been so good to her. He dealt with her outburst, her silence, her car, her safety, and she gave him nothing in return. Lilah was still in shock from her incident, it hadn’t had a chance to process through her brain. She put it on the back burner to deal with when she was alone. Her showers were full of tears, along with drives home and in between classes. The memory of being chased was etched into her mind.

“Please,” He began again. “Please just give me something.”

Daryl was begging.

With clenched fists gripping the sheets the blonde girl forced herself to talk. “I hurt you Daryl. I broke down and treated you like— like you didn’t matter at all.” Lilah stared at the ceiling. She didn’t want to chance looking at him yet.

“M’fine Lilah.” He barely got the words out before she began speaking once more.

“I’m not!” Her desperate yell echoed through the room. “I’m not Daryl! I’m not. I don’t react like that, I’ve never done that. I’ve never—“ She paused to sit up, not caring that tears began streaming. “I have never hurt someone I cared about in that kind of way.” She wouldn’t meet his eyes, but he studied her movements. Her arms were flailing in front of her as she spoke while her ocean eyes began to flood. Daryl seethed internally knowing the man that caused this was still out there.

“Ya ain’t ever been in that kinda situation either though, have ya?” He knew the emotional rollercoaster she was riding. He’d been there several times himself. Daryl didn’t want her to have to do it alone though. She was brutally soft and he wanted to preserve that as much as he could.

“That doesn’t matter Daryl! Things happen, that doesn’t mean I should resort to treating someone I love like a piece of garbage.”

“L, I only know as much as Merle saw, but whatever happened that caused ya to almost kill a man don’t just seem like a thing that happens.”

Their eyes met and she broke. She wanted so badly to keep it to herself, to prevent a rift in their relationship. It seemed like doing that was what was really causing the issues.

Even still, Lilah despised herself for being so nasty to him. She’d never get over that. “I was just trying to go into town D,” she sobbed. “Then he, he pulled over and said he’d give me a ride. He seemed so nice - and Daryl, I was going to go with him willingly. I was following him back when, when I got signal. Everything changed after that.” Lilah paused between sobs trying to get everything out. Daryl wove his fingers into hers and gave her hand a squeeze as she continued, “He started chasing me after I told him I was just going to call for help. I was starting to feel weird anyway because he’d just made a comment about my shorts. Then I just, I ran.” She brought her hand up to wipe her tears away. “I remembered my gun in my purse so I pulled it out. For a minute I considered darting into the woods but was scared if something happened, nobody would find me. It was all so so quick. He grabbed my shirt Daryl and-“ Her sentence was left incomplete.

He brought her into her chest, holding her there while she weeped. “It’s okay darlin’, y’ain’t gotta keep goin’” Daryl tried soothing her, but she popped out of his chest shaking her head.

“No, no. I can tell you.” Lilah insisted. “I can tell you.”

“Okay.” He responded softly.

“He grabbed my shirt and I thought it was over. I thought he’d got me. If I hadn’t been wearing a cheap tank top he would’ve. That was the only thing that kept him from taking me.” Her voice was more even as she began explaining again. Lilah took a moment to breathe before she carried on. “Then I held him at gun point.” Her breathing was steady, but loud, vibrating the space between them. “I held him there but I hesitated every time I went to pull the trigger. I just,” she bit her lip. “I hesitated.”

He listened intently, paying close attention to the inflection in her voice and how it wavered but in such a firm way. “That’s a human thing to do.”

“That’s a stupid thing to do. He wanted to kidnap me.”

“You ain’t a horrible person though darlin’. Ya got morals and that’s a good thing.”

She shook her head lightly, brushing off his comment. “Then Merle showed up. I didn’t know it was him at first, but I never thought I’d actually be happy to hear his voice.” A small smile graced her face. It was the first one Daryl had seen in two weeks.“When he went to grab the gun out of my hand I panicked and pulled the trigger. It didn’t hit the man or anything, but I still felt like shit for doing it.” Lilah swallowed thickly. “And I hate that I felt like shit for almost killing a guy that probably wouldn’t have thought twice if the roles were reversed.” The thought of that made Daryl sick to his stomach. Yet it could’ve happened. “Now…I’m not okay. We didn’t file a police report, I was a bitch to you, and I’m just, I’m not okay.”

He nodded in response. He understood. Even if she never grasped how much he truly understood, he still did.

“That’s aight.” Daryl said, pulling her back into his chest and holding her there. “Y’ain’t gotta be okay, but’cha gotta let me know what’s goin’ on in that pretty head’a yer’s sometimes.”

Lilah tried pulling back again but his grasp was firm. Her heart melted when he placed a kiss on her head before letting her go.

“I am really sorry for everything D.”

“It’s nothin’, ya’s panicking. It takes a lot more than a few words and girly hits ta get me gone.”

Chapter 12.

[thegreatcaptainusopp]

The Separation

Ao3 link

The Seer, Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4

Chapter 5: Sanji

“Fucking shit!”

Sanji staggers to his feet, trying to control his trembling legs. “Shit. Fuck. Fucking shit!”

The adrenaline is still coursing through his system, feeling like fire in his veins. He’d flown for…well, he’s not sure how long, but it had hit him hard again when he’d landed, like he’d been frozen in place and restarted once he met the ground again.

He turns in place, trying to take in his surroundings. He’s in some kind of forest: the trees and plants are all grouped together in close quarters, poking at his back, his knees, his face. He keeps flinching as he moves, the plants brushing against his skin feeling like hidden fingertips, ready to attack him as his back turns.

He stops, squinting out among the trees and trying to find a way out. The sun is out, but the plants are packed so close together in this forest that he’s covered by darkness. Everything seems to converge on him, looming up and out, covering him in shadow, staring down at him with eyes that resemble…

Sanji threads his fingers through his hair, closes his eyes, and shakes his head viciously. “What are you doing?” He hisses to himself, “You’ve been separated from everyone and you don’t know if they’re okay, and you lose it over a forest? Pull yourself together!”

He tugs on his hair, trying to make the pain and the pressure ground him a little, shake feeling back into his bones. Okay. First thing’s first. He needs to get out of here. But how?

He opens his eyes, slowly letting his arms fall back down to his sides. Forests are dangerous: you could be wandering in one for years, right up next to the edge and never know it. If he’s going to pick a direction and move, he needs to be sure he’ll hit the shore. Once he’s there…maybe he’ll hunker down somewhere, then figure out his next move.

Sanji glances around again. Now that he has…some sort of a vague plan, it feels lighter, somehow. The trees don’t loom as large, and he can breathe a little again.

Well. He’s alive, at least, and not badly harmed. He can work with that.

He looks up at the trees, and their vastness, and thinks a little. Maybe if he can get to the top somehow, and look around…maybe he can find out which direction the shore is and head that way.

Plan decided, Sanji makes his way to the closest tree, the lays a hand on the bark, testing its texture. It’s not slippery, not shiny, and seems like it wouldn’t be too difficult to climb.

A memory flashes in his mind. Robin-Chan, laying her hands on the bark of a tree in Skypeia, giving him the vaguest hint of a grin. I can see where we are from the top, She had said, crossing her arms. Just give me a moment.

The memory fills him with warmth. She had still been so new to them then. So quiet and reserved and baffled by them all, slowly coming out of her shell to bless them with true, genuine smiles, and even laughter…

The image of her hands on the tree bark and are abruptly replaced with a different set of hands, bigger ones, that grow and grow and grow, coming towards him at a more rapid pace, until—

“No!”

Sanji comes back into himself, and the pressure on his knees and palms tells him that he’s fallen to the ground. He grips at the dirt, then pushes himself back up, brushing at his shaky knees. I’m fine, he tells himself. So if I’m fine, they’re fine. They’re fine. They’re fine.

He takes a deep breath, then grabs onto a branch, pulling himself up into the tree. He climbs, carefully trying to find a grip with his dress shoes, wincing as his suit gets caught in the branches and rough bark. It’s going to get destroyed for sure…he’s going to have to try another way to put himself back together later.

Unfortunately, the top of the tree can’t handle his weight, so he slowly makes his way back down, muttering, irritated, to himself the whole way. He’s going to have to just pick a direction, at least until he finds a better tree.

Sanji orients himself in a direction and goes, keeping an eye on the trees as he walks past. The crew make their way back into his mind, as they tend to do, and he can feel the simmering worry start to boil over.

It’s possible they didn’t all get hit, right? Brook had, and Franky, and poor Chopper, and—

The image of Robin disappearing right before his eyes slams back into his memory, and it’s enough to almost make him lose his breath. She…he had a duty to protect her, and he had just…

He’d failed. He’d failed her, he’d failed the others, and he’d failed Luffy…

He purposefully draws in a deep breath. The rest of them have to be okay…they were probably on another island too, and they would all make their way back out. They’re smart, they’re capable, and they’re part of Luffy’s crew. He’ll see them again. He will.

The back of Sanji’s neck prickles. Somewhere in the distance, there’s a sharp scuttling sound, getting closer and closer and closer, until…

Sanji whirls around, leg up, a yell of “Hey!” Building in his throat. It dies before it gets out his mouth, and he freezes in place, eyes wide and a sweat instantly breaking across his forehead.

Because there, in front of him, is a giant cockroach. All legs and arms and clicking mandibles and huge.

Sanji breaths out a shaky “oh, hell no,” turns around, and books it. He’s not sticking around to deal with a cockroach, especially a giant one. No way in all the deepest hells of the sea is he dealing with this one.

He can hear the angry chittering behind him, and the falling trees and trampling plants behind him as he’s pursued. “No!” He pants out, continuing to run as fast as his legs can take him. “Go away go away go away go away—”

Another prickle at his neck, and he hears a subtle thwip in the distance. Months of time in Usopp’s company has prepared him well for the sound, and he can feel his body tense in panicked readiness.

With another call of “shit!”, Sanji throws himself to the ground, covering his head just as he feels something fly over him, breeze fluttering his hair. A shriek of…something emerges from behind him, then a thump, then another, before it all goes quiet.

Sanji leaps back to his feet and turns around, battle readiness pumping through his veins, preparing himself for the worst—

There, in front of him, is the corpse of the giant cockroach, half-stuffed into the dirt. It sends a chill up his spine and he instantly averts his gaze. He lands, instead, on another half-buried figure in all black, legs twitching.

Sanji takes a cautious half-step forward. “Hello?” He calls out, hesitant. “Oi, are you—?”

The earth seems to rumble for a second before the figure gives another large twist, and then pops back out of the dirt. Sanji stops in place, body going tense instantly.

The figure turns around, and it looks like a man, a man in full length black armor and a helmet obscuring his face. He stands still for a moment before lifting his arms then maneuvering himself into a self-assured pose.

“Hello!” The man cries, twirling the weapon in his hand. “Are you going to eat that?”

-

Sanji feels his brow twitch. The man’s energy seems…familiar. “No!” He exclaims, a shiver running up his spine. “You take that!”

The man shrugs. “Suit yourself!” He says, tugging at the cockroach’s large legs.

Sanji quickly looks away. “Oi,” He says, to the general direction of his left. “Who are you, anyway? And where are we?”

The man instantly shoots over to his line of sight. “My name,” he begins, striking another overcomplicated pose “Is Heracles! And you, my good sir, are currently in the forest of Greenstone, on the Boin Archipelago.”

Sanji sighs. “Haven’t been having the greatest luck with Archipelagos,” He mutters, suddenly feeling the great need for a cigarette. “I’m Sanji, by the way. Nice to make your acquaintance, I suppose.”

“Oh yes!” Heracles says, giving a flourishing bow. “How wonderful, how wonderful! If I may ask, how did you get here? And, in all honesty, why would you want to be here to begin with?”

Sanji digs around in his pants pocket, searching for his cigarettes. “It’s kind of a long story,” He says, not really wanting to get into it. “But in summary, I was not sent here by choice, and I need to get out as soon as possible. Oi, Heracles. Know a way out of this place?”

Heracles strikes another pose, somehow even more overstuffed than the first. “It will be treacherous!” He cries, putting a hand to his forehead. “This whole island is inhabited with creatures that will try to eat you…even the plants! Watch out, Sanji-n, or they will defeat you, and you will become food on this island.”

Sanji’s hand hits a mysterious piece of paper in his pocket. “Sure,” He says, distracted, as he fishes it out. “Don’t get eaten. I’m a cook, I think I can handle that. I’ll eat them, instead, nicely seasoned and plated.”

“A cook?” Heracles says, voice rising. “Oh my! Well, you must be extra cautious, as I’m sure the lure of food will appeal to you. You must make sure you stay away from the plants, or my name isn’t,” And here, he goes through the rigmarole of a performance again, ending with a flourish of “Heracles!”

Sanji’s eye twitches again as he folds open the paper. “So you’ve said,” He sighs icily, and peers closer at it. “And—”

He cuts himself off as he recognizes the paper, feeling his eyes widen underneath his bangs. “What the hell,” He mutters, shaking his head. “How do I have a Vivre card?”

Maybe…?

Well. He needs to find a way out of here before he figures out whatever the hell is going on here. “Okay,” He says, leveling a sharp look at Heracles. “I need to get to the shore, all right?”

“Well,” Heracles says. “About that. The island gets more treacherous the further out you go, so you should wait a moment. And I swear to you, upon my name of—”

“I get it!”

-

“Sanji-n, please reconsider—”

“No.” Sanji says shortly. The cigarette between his fingers has done wonders for his shot nerves. “I told you, I don’t give a single shit about whatever monsters are around here. I’m a bigger monster than any of them. They’ll run away from me, and then I’ll get to the shore and get out.”

“But, if you will wait a moment—”

Heracle’s words at abruptly cut off by the sound of a warbled screech, and a huge plant suddenly leaps at Sanji, petals opening wide to reveal a mouth with jagged, sharp teeth.

Sanji stubs out his cigarette, drawing back a foot and leaping forward, destroying the plant with one kick. “Goddamit,” He laments staring at his half-smoked cigarette. “I could’ve kept this on.”

“Incredible!” Heracles says, sauntering towards him. “You have the heart of a warrior indeed! However, Sanji-n, we’re approaching the Forest of Gluttony, so you may want to remain cautious.”

This makes Sanji stop in place. “The forest of what?”

“Gluttony,” Heracles confirms, then points to the distance. “Look”

Sanji looks. There, beyond the rows and rows and rows of trees is something different. Something colorful.

He breaks into a run, heart beating in double speed as he approaches closer, then stumbles out into a cook’s paradise. There are trees and crops as far as the eye can see, of every color and variety.

“See?” Heracles-n says, crossing his arms like a proud father. “Gluttony. Everything you could ever want to eat, all in one place.”

“How?” Sanji breathes out, staring at the miles and miles of food around him. “This doesn’t make sense. The crop distribution alone…”

He trails off, staring into the distance. Now that he’s closer, the river looks…not right. The color is off, and the smell…it smells like home-cooked meals and comfort.

Heracles nudges him, and he jerks away. “Go look,” He says simply. “You will not believe your eyes.”

Sanji glares at him, but moves closer anyway. The smell grows stronger, and Sanji is strongly reminded of Zeff, and of the times he’d given him lessons on comfort food.

You feed the body, He’d said, putting broth into a pot. But you also feed the soul. Food for comfort is the best thing you could offer a soul.

Sanji kneels down near the river, stares at the noodles and broth and vegetables, then collapses back into a sitting position in shock. “That’s ramen,” He says, stammering, then again. “That’s ramen.”

“Yes,” And that’s Heracles next to him, out of nowhere. “Fascinating, isn’t it?”

Fascinating? Hah. Fascinating…

Sanji leaps back up instantly. “Quickly!” He says, glancing around desperately. “Bowls! We need…anything that can hold this! Before it goes bad!”

“It won’t.”

Sanji clenches his fists. “What?”

“It won’t,” Heracles responds, shrugging. “I don’t know how it works, but it doesn’t go bad. It never smells off. All the food here is perfect, in pristine condition. Well. That’s the Grand Line for you!”

Sanji shakes his head, numb. “How? Why?”

“How, I don’t know,” Heracles says. “Why? Well. The island need to fatten up its prey before it eats them. This is how it does so.”

Sanji crushes the half-finished cigarette still in his hand. “Food?” He asks, voice hoarse. “It uses food? To kill people?”

“Well,” Heracles says. “Indirectly, I suppose. But yes. So be cautious, will you?”

Sanji stands there for a few moments, takes a few shallow breath, then turns on his heel and storms in the opposite direction.

“Sanji-n, wait!” He hears behind him, but he ignores it. Instead, he moves forward with even more renewed energy and motivation, body so tense that he’s starting to get a headache.

I have to get out of here, he thinks, then says aloud “I have to get off this fucking island!”

-

“What kind of fucking island is this?”

“Language!” Heracles protests, shaking his head. “Foul words won’t solve anything.”

“Who asked you?” Sanji growls, squinting in the distance.

“Who am I? Well, I’m—”

“That’s not what I asked!” Sanji snaps. “Anyway. Are you going to help me or not?”

Heracles is behind him, so Sanji can’t see what he’s doing. The tone of his voice sounds hesitant, though. “Sanji-n, I would of course he honored to help you, however—”

“If you’re not going to help,” Sanji snaps. “Then leave me alone. I need to get out of here, I have people who need me!”

He thinks about all that food, just lying there in the distance, luring people in until they’re ready to be eaten themselves. His jaw clenches.

“You’re going to the shore?”

Sanji glances back. “Yeah,” He says gruffly. “Like I said. I’m going to leave. So I need to sail out. Is it this way, or not?”

“Yes,” Heracles says, still hesitant. “We should arrive any moment, actually. But—”

Sanji just goes faster, practically running at this point. He can get there, try to figure out to do with a vessel, and then just…

Just what? Just go, without navigation?

He clutches the Vivre card in his pocket. Well. He does have some sort of navigation, right? He can go until he gets to the destination, or until he finds something familiar. Either way, it’s the best plan he’s got.

“Sanji-n, wait—”

The forest runs out with a suddenness that trips him up. One moment, he’s fighting through the trees, and the next, he’s stumbled over a tree root and fallen onto sand and open beach, and it’s so unexpected and welcome that he feels a smile grow across his face. “Yes!” He cheers, forgetting his hanger-on that follows him onto the beach. “Made it!”

He hurries right up to the surf, squinting into the distance. If he can chart some sort of path that’ll lead back here, then maybe he can try to see if Heracles has a vessel he can use, then—

A hand grabs the back of his jacket. “Sanji-n!”

Sanji can only squeak out an indignant “Hey!” before he’s dragged backwards with a speed that shocks him. There’s a prickling at the back of his neck, and then everything begins to shake, sudden and strong, and Sanji is instantly thrown to his knees.

“Get up!” He dragged back to his feet and tugged back and back and back until he’s surrounded by green again, by trees and forest and flora.

Heracles flings him towards a tree. “Hang on!” He cries, and Sanji does, clutching as hard as he can as the ground ripples and shakes, and muted roar sounding in the distance.

He doesn’t know how long he hangs on, but eventually the shaking lessens in intensity, before gradually wearing down and stopping completely.

Sanji takes a breath to find his solidity before shooting back up on his feet. “What the fuck was that?” He yells, marching towards Heracles, who had been clutching a tree of his own. “What the fuck?”

Heracles doesn’t mention his language this time. “It’s the island,” He replies, pulling himself back up and dusting himself off. “I’m sure you may have noticed…it’s alive, you know. You think it’ll let us go again that easily?”

Sanji’s teeth clench. “I don’t care!” He snaps. “I’m not letting this shitty little island make me stay. Like I said, I have people who rely on me, two of which are the most gorgeous women you’ve ever seen!”

“Oh?” Heracles says with interest. “Really?”

“Yes!” Sanji exclaims, heart filling at the thought of Nami-San and Robin-Chan. “They’re beautiful, and kind, and wonderful and need to be looked after! The others too, I guess. But, you see, I’m the cook. They all need me!”

“Sanji-n,” Heracles says, tone serious. “I understand. I’m trying to leave as well, but you must listen. This island is going to try to get you to stay. This island is going to try to tempt you into growing so that it can eat you with satisfaction. This island is actively working against us, trying to keep us here. It will take time.”

Sanji shakes his head. “I don’t have time!” He snaps. “I—”

“You don’t have a choice,” Heracles says, gentle, but firm. “Look. I have been working on a way out. I have a vessel that I’m working on. I have a route out that I’m planning. But, so that I don’t die in the process, I need time to build the plan. Help me, and we will leave together. That’s a promise from me, Heracles!”

Sanji barely notices the pose this time. It’s like there’s a line of panic running through his brain, and it’s chanting leave leave leave leave and it’s difficult to keep it quiet.

But on the other hand…

Sanji knows, logically, that Hercales is right. If he’s learned anything during his time on the crew, it’s that sometimes, lying in wait is the best thing he can do. How many times has he separated from the crew, then reappeared at the best time to help them? It’s a concept he’s very familiar with. It’s just…this time, he doesn’t know where they are, what they’re doing, if they’re okay…

He can’t spiral. The sooner he cooperates with Heracles, the sooner he can leave. This is his only shot.

“So?” Heracles asks, arms folded, cocking us head to the side in a move that evokes Chopper, somehow. “What are you going to do?”

-

What do I do?

The question plagues him. It plagues him as he follows Heracles through the forest, gathering supplies and building shelter. It plagues him as he attempts to put meals together from the things they hunt and plants they pick, even though Heracles gushes over the food. It plagues him as he fights day and night, defeating giant carnivorous plants and insects that he can feel crawling all over his skin, even after he kills them. It plagues him as he tries to stay clean and put together, desperately but delicately washing his suit daily even though he knows it can’t be saved. It plagues him whenever he catches the telltale smells of the forest of gluttony, making sure to turn away as soon as he can. It plagues him as they slowly work on the ship that Heracles had marooned on, trying to get it back to working order without altering the island to their plans.

It plagues him for a few weeks, following him around like a shadow, sneaking its way into his dreams.

He hasn’t known Heracles for very long, but the man seems to have keen enough senses, and knows instinctively that something is wrong with him. So, he gently tells him it’s time to leave the suit behind (we’ll get you some new clothes, Sanji-n) and follows his lead to avoid the forest of gluttony (ah, it was that way, Sanji-n), and tries to console him as they slowly work on their escape plan (soon, Sanji-n. The ship will be ready soon. You’ll see.)

At some point, though, enough is enough. And enough happens during a very normal day, consisting of Sanji looking up at the trees again.

This has been happening more frequently as of late, but Sanji can’t help it. As they trudge through the forest, his mind keeps going back to the image of Robin-Chan, hand on the bark, saying I can see where we are from the top.

He tugs on his new, hastily cobbled shirt, trying to get used to the itching. Maybe if he could do that, could navigate this goddamn shitty forest by himself, maybe he could actually make this thing go faster…

“Sanji-n? Are you thinking of the trees again?”

Sanji is snapped back to reality by Heracles’ concerned voice. “Yeah,” He shrugs. “When am I not? Can’t escape them here, after all.”

Heracles looks back at him, and then back up at the trees. His pace doesn’t slow as he leads them through with sure steps. “And you want to get to the top, you say?”

“Yeah,” Sanji says. “That way…I’ll have a good lay of the land. I’ll always know where the sea is.”

“Then why don’t you go?” Heracles says, still looking up at the trees as he walks. “Go up. What do you have to lose?”

“What?” Sanji asks, bewildered, looking back down at the ground. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” Heracles says, voice steady and sure. “That you’re stuck here for the foreseeable future, correct? So, you might as well make the best of it. Learn how to make it to the top. Learn the fastest way to defeat the new enemies here. It’ll serve you well when you return.”

Sanji pauses mid stride. His gaze lifts from his new, wooden shoes, up to the tree closest to him.

I can see where we are from the top.

A grin spreads over his face: some joy, mostly determination. “You know what?” He says, crouching low. “You may have a point there, Heracles. And you know what I think?”

Heracles has paused too, a little ahead of him now. “What?”

“I’m not the strongest climber,” He says, tensing his legs. “I save my upper body strength for my food. But…if I can jump high enough…”

“Yes!” Heracles cheers, catching on to his plan. “Yes, indeed! Learn to fly, Sanji-n! Learn to fly!”

-

A few days after Sanji’s newfound determination, something happens.

He’s made good progress during the last few days: going up is not all that different than going through, with the exception of the extra enemy that is gravity. But he’s working on it: gaining height every day, getting closer to the top, using everything around him for momentum.

Heracles had also introduced him to a species of plant on the island, one that he called Pop Greens. “They’re useful as ammo,” He’d said, then visibly drooped. “You don’t use ammo though, do you?”

“No,” Sanji had said, staring at them thoughtfully. “I know some people who do, though. I’ll get back to you on those. For now: I have others things to work on.”

It’s at that moment, as he’s readying himself for another try, that something hits the top of his head. It’s not heavy, and doesn’t hurt much, but it’s enough for him to stop in his tracks, out a hand to his head, and stare indignantly at the sky. “Oi!”

“What?” Heracles pops up, covered in some sort of gunk from the aftermath of a bug battle. “What is it?”

“Something fell,” Sanji mutters, scanning the forest floor. “Fell on my goddamned…”

He trails off, seeing a small heap of white paper somewhere next to him. “What is this?”

Heracles approaches it cautiously, picking it up from the forest floor. “Oh!” He says. “Its a newspaper. Well, I haven’t read one of these in ages!”

Sanji had, in the month and a half or so he’d been here, filled Heracles in on some things here and there, but not more than that. Heracles is nice enough, but he doesn’t quite know if he can trust him with everything yet. Including certain world events, and his own identity and crew.

Heracles flips open the newspaper. “Hm,” He says. “It’s a bit of an older one…must’ve fallen out of a trash heap somewhere. I see there’s been a confrontation between the pirates and Marines…oh. Whitebeard has passed. A damn shame…”

Sanji sidles closer, curious despite himself. “What are they saying?” He asks, peering over Heracles’ shoulder.

Heracles steps to the side, allowing him access. “Look,” He says. “It was at Marineford.” He flips over a few more pages. “Several crews were involved, it seems, including…”

He flips another page, and Sanji’s heart drops. “Wait!” He says, and pulls the paper closer. Because there, on the page, is—

Sanji takes a shuddering breath. He can feel a relieved smile break across his face. “You’re all right,” He breathes out, automatically reaching into his pocket to pull out a cigarette. “And…okay. Fine.”

He returns the newspaper to a befuddled Heracles. “It’s okay,” He tells him, lifting a slightly shaking cigarette to his lips. “We’ll go on your schedule. I have about a year and a half or so in time now, so I can wait a little longer.”

“A year and a half?” Heracles asks, still baffled. “Why?”

Sanji blows the cigarette smoke out through his mouth, letting the nicotine calm him. “Heracles,” He says, “I’m going to tell you the story about a pirate in a straw hat…”

-

It doesn’t take long after that, only a few weeks, for the worst to happen.

“No,” Sanji says frantically, knees pressed up to his chest, one hand in his hair, the other clenched over the object in his palm. “No no no no no…”

“Sanji-n!” And there’s Heracles, shaking his shoulders, clearly terrified. “What’s wrong? Are you hurt? Unwell?”

Sanji lifts his head up, feeling the wetness in the corner of his eyes. The late afternoon sun’s rays dip, visible even beneath all the trees. “It’s happened,” He says, voice breaking.

“What?” Heracles says, looking seriously concerned now. “What’s happened?”

Sanji’s hand clenches, and he lifts it up, showing Heracles the empty box in his palm. “My cigarettes,” He says, voice shaking. “I’m out. I’m completely out.”

“Oh,” Heracles says, a slightly puzzled tone to his voice. “Ah, well. You’ve been smoking less these days, anyway.”

“Yeah,” Sanji wails, putting his head down on his knees again. “Because I had to! Because I was running out! Hey,” And he looks back up, a sudden thought occurring to him. “You think that we could find any nicotine growing around here?”

“I do not,” Heracles says, an amused note entering his voice. “Ah, well. Not to worry, Sanji-n. I, Heracles, will assist you through any withdrawals you may have. And who knows, you may find that your sense of taste may be altered by this change, which will help you with your cooking skills.”

Sanji humphs. “I suppose so,” He aquiesces, leaning back against the tree. “I’ll get more when we return, I guess.”

“I can check again,” Heracles offers, sitting on the ground in front of him. “The forest of gluttony sometimes has—”

“Pass,” Sanji says stiffly, avoiding eye contact. “I’ll just wait until we’re out of here.”

He sees Heracles shrug from the corner of his eye. “Whatever you say, Sanji-n,” He says. “It’s your choice, completely.”

Sanji nods, settling back out against the tree. Silence falls between them, but Sanji can practically feel Heracles preparing to say something.

He’s proven correct soon after. “So, I’ve noticed something,” Heracles says, leaning forward from his sitting position. “Now, you don’t need to explain anything to me at all, Sanji-n. Not if you don’t want to. But…I’ve noticed that the forest of gluttony makes you uncomfortable. And, as you are a cook, this surprised me. I would’ve thought you’d be interested in the food there.”

Sanji really wants a cigarette right about now. “It’s none of your business!” He snaps. “So I don’t want to go there? So what?”

Heracles puts up a hand in surrender. “It’s fine,” He says. “You don’t want to go. No problem with that. I just noticed, that’s all.”

“Oh, you noticed?” Sanji says, voice rising abruptly, without his permission. “You noticed that it’s all sorts of fucked up that this fucking island is using food to kill people? That it’s taking advantage of hunger? That it just…creates food out of nowhere and so many people don’t have that but it still uses that to hurt and kill? That it—”

He catches himself mid-yell, almost swallowing the words back just as they emerge. Heracles just sits and watches without saying a word. Sanji wishes he could see his face, get an idea of what he’s thinking, what expression he’s wearing.

The guilt hits him quick. “Sorry,” He says, dropping his voice down to a normal volume, hushed even. “I didn’t mean to do that. Sorry.”

He really needs a cigarette.

“Not to worry, Sanji-n,” Heracles says, and the gentleness to his tone makes Sanji feel even worse. “We all have our things to work on, hm? You can tell good old Heracles about them any time. Or not. Whatever you want.”

Sanji hadn’t known how badly this was affecting him, even now. “Yeah,” He says. Then, even more quietly. “Thanks.”

He’s going to have to face it at some point. He’s got over a year left here, he’s going to have to go back there eventually. And face it. Eventually.

Sanji looks back up at the sky. But not today.

“Hey, Heracles,” He says, maneuvering himself back to his feet. “I’m gonna work on getting up there, okay? I’ve been doing pretty well with that.”

“I noticed!” Heracles says, standing up with him then shooting him an enthusiastic thumbs up. “I saw you run up into the sky! You’ll get this in no time at all.”

Sanji nods at him before turning, revving up, and running, putting on a burst of speed and power that propels him into the sky. He goes, up and up and up and up, until he finds a sturdy branch.

He sits, watching as the sun sets into the tops of the trees in the forest around him. He’s almost there, almost reached the very top of the forest, but that hadn’t been his goal today. He just…he needs to think. To remember.

He takes a deep breath, faces of his crew flipping though his mind. That, more than anything, works wondering on steadying his racing and anxious heart. You better be safe, he thinks, for what feels like the millionth time. You better be safe.

They’re all strong, they’re all capable, they’re all—

The image of Usopp, eyes bandaged, throwing rocks and stumbling around, unsure, slams into his mind. I’m trusting you, He thinks. And in all your capabilities to be okay. If not, I’ll kill you myself.

He has to admit, he does miss them. All of them. Even the Marimo—

Sanji scrunches up his face in disgust. Ugh. Never mind.

He leans back against the branch, chuckling softly at the slowly darkening sky.

“Won’t be long now,” He tells the forest. “I’ll see you all soon.”

-

Everything changes on the day that she appears.

He’s about a year and a few months in now, he thinks. And in that time, he’s been laser focused on getting better. Better at everything. Better at fighting, at facing the bugs and plants head on. Better at running, and flying. He’d made it to the tops of the trees ages ago, and now he’s thinking bigger, beyond the trees and into the sky.

Better at managing the forest of gluttony, at walking in without feeling the overpowering urge to run, at using what he can find in there to make the dishes he can string up here more interesting. He’s been forced back to the most basic of ingredients and techniques, which has proved a welcome challenge to keeps things fresh, new, and different.

Sanji is…well, he’s not all right, per se. He’s managing, he’s fine. He’s counting down the days until he leaves, until he can put what he’s learned here into practice but also while feeling like himself again.

There’s been one thing, besides the obvious stuff, that’s been bothering him, though. And that is…

“It’s been over a year!” Sanji laments, flopping dramatically to the ground. “A whole full year!”

“So you’ve said,” Heracles says, distractedly gathering his pop greens. He’s used to this countdown by now.

Sanji stares up at the visible sun from beyond the trees. “A full year plus,” He groans. “With no women!”

“With no anyone,” Heracles chimes in, tone completely unbothered. “It’s just you and I on this island, partner.”

Sanji snaps back up into a seating position. “I know!” He yells. “And that’s whatever. But not a single woman for over a year! I’m dying here! I’m so empty! Meaningless!”

“Sure,” Heracles says mindlessly, examining a pop green critically. “Less than a year to go, Sanji-n. Do not worry.”

“Oh,” Sanji cries, falling on his back again. “If only my will was strong enough. Maybe, just maybe, I could summon a woman here to—”

“Watch out!”

Sanji doesn’t even register the words, too used to hearing just his and Heracles’ voices than anything else doesn’t even seem to reach him. By the time he realizes something has been said, a large weight has hit his face and he instantly gasps in pain, sitting up as it leaves his face. “What the hell?” He said, siting back up, clutching his smarting nose and readying for battle. “What was—”

“I said watch out!” The tone is upset, weary. “You didn’t listen!”

The voice knocks around Sanji’s skull, starting with not-Heracles and moving to not-man leading to…

Sanji’s head snaps around, all pain instantly forgotten. “A woman!” He cries, searching for her. “My prayers have been answered! Thank you, gods above, for listening to—”

He trails off as his gaze finally lands on the new individual, the first person he’s talked to outside of Heracles in over a year. His mouth snaps shut instantly.

Because standing in front of him is not a woman, but a girl. A little girl, no more than ten, with bright pink hair, small drawn lips, and a truly impressive scowl. She looks bedraggled and waterlogged, but that doesn’t seem to faze her one bit. “Hey!” She snaps at him. “What gives?”

Sanji tips his head back to the sky. “That’s cruel!” He wails. “You know I meant!”

“No matter,” Heracles says, cautiously approaching the girl. “Young one, how are you here? When did you arrive?”

Sanji looks back to the girl. Horror instantly fills him as he sees tears form in her eyes. “I’m a pirate captain,” She burbles out, angrily swiping at her eyes. “And…and I got caught by another pirate. A bad one. Blackbeard.”

Sanji stills. “Blackbeard?” He asks softly, images from his time in Marineford filling his memories.

“Yes,” The girl says, locking him in a defiant, teary glare. “But…they were gonna take me and my crew to the Marines. And…their ship flipped over and I was drowning and couldn’t control where I was going and then—”

“And then you ended up here,” Heracles continues, hand over his heart. “Oh, you poor child. Not to worry, you’re safe here. Sanji-n and I will protect you.”

The girl sniffs, wiping at her eyes again. “I don’t know you,” she says angrily. “How can I trust you? Stay away from me!”

Sanji stands up slowly, trying to look as nonthreatening as possible. “Hey,” He says, trying to stay calm. “I understand. We’re strangers, and you do whatever you need to do to be safe.” He moves a little closer, waiting until he’s a couple paces away to crouch down so that she’s at eye level. He makes sure to stand out of reaching distance. “But it’s dangerous here, so let’s stick together, okay? We’re the only residents of the island, and it’s carnivorous.”

“Wait?” The girl says, eyes widening. “The island? It wants to eat us?”

Sanji gives her a small smile. “Yeah,” He says. “We’re tying to get out of here too, but it’s going to take time. When we leave, do you want to come with us?”

The girl stays silent, eyeing him wearily. “Okay,” She finally says. “For now. But, if you cross me—”

Sanji nods. “Understood,” He says, mind whirling. He needs to make sure she doesn’t stay scared of them. “What’s your name, anyway?”

“…Jewelry Bonney,” The girl says after a slight pause. “And you?”

“I’m Sanji,” Sanji says, pointing towards himself. He gestures in Heracles’ direction. “And that’s—”

“My name! Oh, you wish to know my name, Bonney-n? It’s—”

“That’s Heracles,” Sanji interrupts, to Hercales’ disappointed wail. “We both got marooned here too. He’s been here longer than me, though.”

“How long?” Bonney sniffs, curiosity helping keep her tears at bay.

“Oh,” Heracles says, always recovered from the disappointment of not saying his name. “Ages, Bonney-n. Ages! But, if I may ask, how did someone as young as you become a pirate captain? It’s quite an impressive feat.”

Bonney’s young face grows serious. “Cause of my dad,” She says. “I want to be a great pirate so that we can meet again. And,” She looks around conspiratorially. “I have a devil fruit ability.”

Sanji nods enthusiastically. “That’s interesting, Bonney-Chan!” He says. “What do you have?”

Even though it’s unusual to be a pirate captain at such a young age, Sanji has seen stranger things during his time on the Grand Line. He’s not sure if he believes her 100% yet, but he thinks he does, mostly.

Plus, she’s a little girl that needs help. Sanji will never, ever ignore that call.

“This!” Bonney says, scrunching up her face. There, right before their eyes, she begins to transform: shooting up taller, face thinning out, hair growing longer, until…

A young woman stands before them, early twenties at most, waving happily. “See?” She says, and even her voice has matured, although there’s a lilt of childishness to the quality. “I can do it to me, and other people too. I can make anyone younger or older!”

“Incredible!” Heracles exclaims. “Phenomenal! What an fabulous ability!”

“Really?” Bonney says, scratching her head disbelievingly. “I mean, it’s cool and all, but maybe not that cool.”

Sanji smiles at her. She seems to be getting comfortable, at least. “I think it’s cool, Bonney-Chan,” He says. “But keeping a different form all the time must get tiring, right? You can switch back to yourself if you want.”

Bonney nods, face scrunching up again as she grows shorter, regaining her baby fat and youthful expression.

“I still don’t trust you,” He says suddenly, eyeing them wearily. “But I guess we have to work together to get out of here, right? So…let’s work together, for now. If you mess with me, I’ll make you a hundred years old!”

Sanji nods encouragingly. “Deal,” He says. “Do you have any more questions for us?”

Bonney nods. “Yeah, I have a question.”

Sanji grins at her. “Yes, Bonney-Chan?”

“Where’s the food?” She asks, a sunny grin finally splitting her face.

-

Getting Bonney-Chan changes life on Boin entirely.

For one, having someone under his protection on here has a huge impact on his day to day life. It’s dangerous here, even more so for children, and Sanji has to make sure that Bonney-Chan stays safe and that she can get back to her family.

So, he takes night watches where he hadn’t before, faces the bugs he’d rather not face (as it turned out, Bonney-Chan was also terrified of them), and goes into the forest of gluttony with increasing frequency (growing children need more nutrients, after all).

It’s funny how having a child around can change you, practically overnight.

Bonney-Chan herself also changes the more they get to know her. At first prickly and cautious, she slowly grows to trust them as they continue to show her that they are no threat, and can even be allies. Her true personality starts to shine through: cheerful, hopeful, and extremely intelligent, especially for her age. She also loves a good meal, to Sanji’s joy.

Getting to know Bonney-Chan also confirms that she is, in fact, an actual pirate captain. She begins to tell them stories of her adventures, of getting her crew, of her worries about their safety and their whereabouts.

Sanji can definitely relate, and tells her so. She’d heard of their crew before, and had not been pleased about it (their reputation, Sanji learns, is not particularly stellar, especially after Marineford) but Sanji had brought her around, particularly with his recountings of Luffy’s exploits. They’re so alike that Sanji needs to double take about it sometimes.

The biggest shock of all, however, is learning of Bonney’s father. She had been, as she often did, waxing poetic about her father and his kindness and love.

“…and then Dad used his devil fruit power,” She says, cross legged and grinning toothily. “And sent the guy far away, and—”

Sanji’s heart drops to his gut at the words. “Bonney-Chan,” He interrupts gently, jaw clenching in his attempt to keep calm. “What did you say your father’s devil fruit power was, again?”

Bonney-Chan blinks at him. “Oh,” She says, only a hint of suspicion in her voice. “He has a paw that sends people away.”

Sanji’s heart beats faster. “Is your father,” He begins, hesitant. “Bartholomew Kuma?”

Bonney-Chan’s eyes widen. “Yes,” She says cautiously. “Do you know him? He’s a warlord and all, but—”

“Kuma?” Heracles pipes in, swinging into the conversation with gusto. “Bonney-n, this is wonderful news! He’s a friend of mine, you know?”

“What?” Bonney-Chan says, sitting up straighter.

“What?” Sanji echoes, an ominous feeling growing in his chest.

“Oh, yes,” Heracles says, launching into his tale enthusiastically. “He’d come to visit here on occasion, and would meet me! He’s a good man, Bonney-n.”

Bonney’s smile grows tearful. “Yeah,” She says. “Which is why I need to save him, you see? I need to save him!”

Sanji sighs, running a hand through his hair. Maybe this is a bad idea, but…the coincidence is too strong to stay silent about it. “I know him too,” He finally admits. “He sent me here. He attacked my crew and sent each of us somewhere different.”

There’s a short silence, then:

“Oh!” Heracles says, a hand over his heart. “What excellent news bring us together today, my friends! We all have in common a good friend in Bartholomew Kuma.”

Sanji shoots a quick side glance to Bonney-Chan before replying. “Well…he did attack us, though. I’m not sure why, however, and he did seem to give me a Vivre card as he sent me away…”

“The Vivre card is from Kuma?” Heracles asks, and Bonney-Chan immediately runs to Sanji’s side.

“My father gave you a Vivre card?” She demands, crossing her arms sternly. “Will it lead to him?”

Sanji shrugs helplessly. “I don’t know,” He says, mind whirling with the possibilities. “It’s possible, I guess. But I don’t know why, because I don’t know why he would give it to me. Why would he attack us, then provide us a way out?”

“He was trying to help you!” Bonney-Chan exclaims, eyes fiery. “I don’t know why or how, but he was! Why else would he send you here to Heracles and make sure you could leave? My father is a good man, and whatever he was doing, it was to help you.”

Sanji sighs. “If you say it, Bonney-Chan,” He says. “Then it’s true. I believe you.”

“So will you help him back?” Bonney-Chan demands. “When I come back with you, I’ll follow you to him. And then help me save him? He’s in trouble, and I need to save him!”

“I suppose,” Sanji says, deep in thought. “I can’t make you go there by yourself.” He gives her a searching look. “I’ll help you get better at fighting too, if you want.”

Bonney-Chan’s chest puffs up in indignation. “I can fight!” She says hotly. “I can use Haki, too!”

This catches Sanji’s attention. “Haki?” He asks, remembering Rayleigh’s words on the subject, Usopp’s extraordinary abilities, the prickling he sometimes gets on the back of his own neck…

“Haki,” He repeats, frustrated. “Why does it always come back to Haki?”

“It’s accessible to anyone, Sanji-n,” Heracles chimes in. “A good tool to learn in a world full of devil fruit users.”

Sanji nods, a plan forming in his mind. “Bonney-Chan,” He says, crouching back down in front of her and meeting her eyes. “I need to ask a favor from you. Will you help teach me how to use Haki?”

Bonney-Chan nods fiercely. “Yes,” She says. “And…fine. You train me to fight better, deal? So I won’t be captured by any other pirate ever again. We’ll help each other, and then help my dad.”

Sanji sticks out his hand, pinky up. “Deal,” He says.

Bonney-Chan grins, then sticks out her own pinky, giving his a firm shake.

Sanji nods at her, then moves out of his crouch, stretching. “Ready to start?” He asks.

“I’m ready whenever you are, Sanji!” Bonney-Chan says, grinning wide. “Let’s work on some Haki!”

-

“All right!” Heracles stands on the completed ship, pointing at the sea. “Are you ready to set sail, my fellow seaworthy comrades!”

“Ready!” Bonney cheers, arms in the air.

“Let me finish inventory!” Sanji snaps from the back of the ship. “We need to make sure we have everything we need!”

Heracles glances at the two of them, hands on his hips. “Bonney-n!” He proclaims. “Tell Sanji-n to have some fun for once!”

“Have some fun for once!” Bonney parrots as Sanji finishes the last of his count.

“Oi, old man!” Sanji snaps, making his way to the front of the small ship. “You’re a full grown adult! Don’t bring her into your idiocy! We’re all ready now, anyway.”

“Excellent!” Heracles says, voice dropping its boisterous quality. “Now. Do we know the plan?”

“Yes!” Bonney cheers again.

“Yes,” Sanji says, with less enthusiasm.

Heracles claps his hands together. “Good, good,” He says. “Excellent. This plan has been a long time in the making for me, and I trust nobody more to help me execute it. Both of you have saved my life, enriched it in so many more ways than one. I owe you both more than you will ever know.”

“Heracles…” Sanji begins, but Heracles puts a hand out to silence him.

“Please accept my gratitude, Sanji-n,” Heracles says, laughing back to his regular, boisterous self. “Now. Hoist the sails, team! Let us sail out into the sea, and back home! Sanji-n, the Vivre card if you please.”

“Aye aye!” Bonney says, saluting.

Sanji ruffles Bonney’s hair. “Aye aye” He repeats, passing the card to Heracles. He looks out to the sea. I’m on my way he thinks, breathing deep. I’m coming home.

Chapter 6, Chapter 7

[makethosenarratorsfight]

UNRELIABLE NARRATORS; SIDE C

*NOTE; Gideon Nav propaganda below Narrator's, as poll maker decided to cut some under Read More for post length

The Narrator Propaganda:

Just... Just listen to the "unfunny" clip, what's more to say, vote for the gay old guy

Depending on the ending, he can be

Spoilers I guess??? He's always trying to guide Stanley to the outcome HE wants, which is a very, very small chunk of the game where the player just obeys everything and doesn't experience anything else. Obeying Narrator to a T will win you the "Freedom" ending, where Stanley can finally leave the office building, and Narrator will wax on about how Stanley's "happy" and "finally free to live at last". ...exceeeept, on completion, Stanley will spawn right back in the building as though nothing happened, restarting the adventure all over again. The truth is that Stanley will never be free, regardless of what the Narrator says. Stanley is trapped in the building and will stay trapped no matter what. This truth can only be acknowledged if you're defiant, and even then, I may be mistaken but I'm pretty sure the Narrator never fully admits this??? The museum ending has a WHOLE DIFFERENT narrator explain their mutually fucked circumstances. The dishonest factors can increase in other ways from the player's input (for example, the Narrator might say "Stanley walked through the left door", but the player can use their input to defy this statement and go through the right one instead, therefore making the Narrator's statement inherently dishonest and the Narrator will get pissy about it, changing the outcome for that path). Sometimes he'll misdirect when he's petulant, especially if the player is directly defying his instructions, which makes the game feel like a game of tug-rope for control at points. I want to say there are times where he directly attempts to trick the player but admittedly I can't think of an exact instance. Plus you know, the Narrator has a large ego and always talks big about things like his importance and integrity and whatnot so who knows how much of that is even sincere and how much is a sad veneer, but that's getting into overanalysis territory and my fingers hurt so let's leave this here. I hope this was coherent.

he quite literally rewrites the story whenever he has issues with the direction stanley starts to go in, i do not know how to explain it better than that

He is literally the narrator, and he constantly tries to mislead and lie to Stanley through the narration to get him back on the story’s proper path

He constantly narrates what Stanley is feeling as if it is the truth, when it is not. He speaks as a authority, and while he is one, he is definitely not reliable.

Gideon Nav Propaganda:

(Spoilers for Ht9) She just. Fully ignores most of the magic plot happening around her in the first boom to be a dyke. In the second book it’s even less reliable and it’s fully fucking insane. It’s first person but she’s telling YOU (harrow) what is happening and it’s impossible to decipher. The appearance and personality of every character is fully morphed by Gideon’s mean dykishness.

MASSIVE spoilers. Like even mentioning that this is a thing is a huge fucking spoiler. I normally don’t care about spoilers that much but I legitimately feel awful for anyone with even a passing interest in reading these books who has this spoiled for them. Anyway. Yeah turns out the second-person narration is actually a first-person narration by the dead girl living in Harrow’s head whose death traumatized Harrow (and the entire fandom) so badly that she literally lobotomized herself to forget it and give Gideon a chance at not having her soul digested.

constantly adds her own commentary, does not pay attention to the interesting moving parts of the plot bc she's too busy looking at pretty girls, cannot be trusted to read her own intentions correctly never mind anyone else's. I love her dearly

she just doesn’t notice or doesn’t give a shit about a ton of plot-essential information. Harrow and Palamedes are talking about a necromantic theorem that would blow open the entire story if we could hear them? You can instantly feel Gideon’s eyes glaze over and her mind wander to the nearest available hot girl, and our attention goes with her. It’s handled so smoothly that you might not even notice it happening until a second or third read.

More Propaganda under cut!

Gideon Nav is all but useless as a narrator, and we love her for it. So first of all, she knows absolutely nothing. She grew up under a rock. Almost literally. When the plot is happening near her, she almost never tells us about it. Politics, history, and the magic system are boring. Let her know when there's something she can FIGHT. She also has very selective emphasis and focus that can change a scene completely without ever actually lying. She can tell the same story—to us, in her third-person narration as a factual recounting—and in one version the incident will be a schoolyard scuffle, while a later telling will reveal it to have been a near-homicide. She'll confidently interpret other character's motivations and emotions, only to later be proven wrong. But the thing that makes her REALLY unreliable? She lies to HERSELF constantly. She will tell us in her narration that she doesn't give a shit where someone disappeared to, and then spend the whole day searching for them. She'll say she hates someone, when. Well....

okay so i am actually going to do one segment about her own book and one about harrow’s so many apologies and also many spoilers ahead okay? okay so in gideon the ninth it’s a well known thing that she’s an unreliable narrator on two fronts: she lies to herself and therefore us about how she’s feeling and what she’s thinking, and also she isn’t paying attention to the plot at all. the only things she pays any attention to are hot girls, swords, and hot girls with swords. at one point she watches their only way out be sealed off and is so bored about it that she goes to sleep watching it happen, taking absolutely no note of “oh hey they’re trapping us here”. later someone asks IN FRONT OF HER “hey where did all our shuttles go” and shes like “😌😌😌😌😌😌😌😌😌” and still does not make the connection. babygirl. but THEN!!!!! in HARROW the ninth (MAJOR SPOILERS AHEAD) gideon is the narrator the ENTIRE TIME (except for the revised canaan house parts) and not only does she editorialize, she also straight up lies about events and motivations! partially justified by her being inside harrow’s head, but like. babygirl. beloved. the interjections of “holy fuck” and “pommel” and othersuch things is so important to my mental health and wellbeing. thank you. thank you for lying to us so so much.

[random-writer-23]

Welcoming committee (Ben Hargreeves x F reader)

A/n: This isn't one of my best fanfics, but I think it's still good enough to post for y'all so I hope you enjoy it! I might go back and re-write it sometime soon to make it a bit better and repost it later but Happy reading and as usual all likes, comments, follows, and reblogs are appreciated!

Warnings: reader dying, grief, talks of afterlife

Words: 2055

So there I was, laying down on the hospital bed, my breathing ragged, with my mother sitting gripping my hand as if her life depended on it. When in reality it was mine, that depended on it. She was crying, sobbing, as she held my hand between hers with her head bowed as if she was praying. My dad stood behind her glints of teardrops in his eye, but none fell, cause my father never cried, at least not when I was watching, he would let his tears fall once my eyes were closed for the final time, and I was no longer watching him. They would close for the last time, it was inevitable, my fate was sealed in stone. I was doomed to die here in this hospital bed. And I've accepted it, but that's not to say I liked it, I hated it I was too young I was supposed to live a long and happy life, I was supposed to go to college and get married and have kids. But life doesn't always happen the way it's supposed' to, things happen, you get sick and you go to the hospital, and they can't save you. And then you die, that was the next step, and I could feel it was going to be completed very soon. I could feel my heart slowing down, and how it got harder to breathe, I could vaguely hear the heart monitor beside my bed pause for longer and longer between each beep. My mother heard to and this brought on another round of sobs from her, these ones much louder, than the ones before. She gripped my hand tighter, and I turned my head towards her, I squeezed her hand weakly, and smiled slightly. 

"I-I l-love-ve yo-ou" I whispered my voice raspy.

"I l-love y-you m-more," My mom said stuttering as she smiled at me. 

I sighed contently and closed my eyes, perfect timing... I could still hear everything going on around me, I heard the machine flat line, and my mothers choked sobs as my arm went limp as she grasped it. I heard the doctors and nurses running in to try and save me but their attempts were futile. I wouldn't be waking up anytime soon. I heard one of the doctors shouting clear as they tried to restart my heart. I felt the jolts of electricity but I didn't at the same time. I was aware of everything and nothing at the same time. I heard the doctors apologizing to my mom saying that they couldn't save me. I heard her sobbing louder. But these sounds were distant, and far off, and were fading by the minute. 

"Hey, wake up" I heard someone say gently, and I was confused. It was a new voice, one that was unfamiliar to my ears. The weird thing was that this voice sounded closer than all the other voices. "c' mon you just gotta open your eyes" The voice said softly, coaxing me to obey. So I did, I struggled at first but eventually opened my eyes. I blinked a few times to clear my blurry vision and the room cleared. I was still in my hospital room, and my parents were still by my bedside, nothing had changed, my mom was still clutching my hand tightly. And now as I looked towards my father, I finally saw the tears streaming down his cheeks. He was crying. The heart monitor still connected to my arm was a continuous green line on the screen.

 "I'm over here" The unfamiliar voice brought me out of my trance and I turned my head towards the direction of the voice. I saw a boy, leaning up against the wall of my hospital room. He had a hood on hiding his face, but I could see just enough of it to tell he was a boy. He straightened up off the wall and walked towards me. I watched him approach me, and surprisingly I wasn't afraid, at least not of him. He stood next to me, and I could see his face fully for the first time. He had a kind face, eyes that looked as if they were smiling even though they had no mouth to smile with, they sparkled with mischief, wit, and humour. But when you looked deeper sorrow, and pain. His face was one that could be easily trusted, and one of a person who was shy, but well-liked by everyone he wished to talk to. He offered his hand to me, I looked at it and reached out to take it. He smiled at me, but the smile didn't reach his eyes, and instead seemed to dull the twinkle I saw in them earlier. I gripped his hand tighter as he helped me sit up. This wasn't unusual, sitting up is a normal thing all people do, except this was unusual because I was sitting up, but my body was laying down. My body was still laying down on the bed with my parents crying over it. 

"Your soul has been separated from your body" The boy explained, without me even needing to ask the question. 

"So I'm dead," I asked, noticing how my voice was no longer the raspy wheeze it was when I was in the hospital bed, and I let go of his hand.

"Essentially yes," He said lowering his eyes avoiding my gaze.

"Oh, ok" I nodded, handling my death surprisingly well. I glanced at the boy "So are you like... Death.... or like the grim reaper.... or god or someone?" I asked eyeing him up and down. "Have you like to come to collect my soul?" I asked again curiously wondering if I was standing before death himself. 

"Oh god no, um, I am um" He hesitated as if deciding whether or not to tell me his name, I'm guessing he decided to tell me because a few seconds later he answered. "I'm Ben, Ben Hargreeves" He introduced himself and offered his hand for me to shake it. 

"Nice to meet you, Ben, I'm (Y/n), (y/n)(l/n)" I replied shaking his hand. 

"Nice to meet you (y/n)" He said letting go of my hand, he glanced at the clock on the wall. "we should get going," He said solemnly, glancing over to my parents who were still crying over my dead body. I followed his gaze and stared sadly at them. "I'll let you say goodbye" He murmured, "God knows I wish I got the chance" He mumbled barely loud enough for me to hear. I glanced at him as a frown crossed my face, but he already had his back turned and was walking through the door, to wait outside. I turned back towards where my parents were still crying, my dad, hugging my mom's sobbing and shaking shoulders, and shedding quite a few tears himself. I walked around the bed and tried to touch my mom's shoulder, but my hand just went right through it. I sighed whispering my last goodbyes, hoping that they heard or felt something. Before walking to the door of the hospital room. I turned back once more to take one last look at them before exiting the room. Ben stood on the outside of the door, waiting for me. 

"so why are you here Ben?" I asked curiously as to what he was doing here. "Not that I don't enjoy your company" I added quickly so I didn't offend him. 

"Well, I am your welcoming committee" He replied, and I nodded my head in understanding. 

"Why?" I asked curious to see why a guy would volunteer to welcome a complete stranger to the afterlife. 

"You see when I died, I had no one, literally no one, I never knew my real parents, so I didn't know my grandparents or any of my real family" he explained as we walked out the hospital, and I followed wherever he was leading me.  "I didn't want anyone else to experience that so I go to as many places as I can and act as a welcoming committee, to those who have recently died," He said reaching up to rub his hand on the back of his neck shyly. I giggled, this guy was a literal angel, so pure and soft. "Yeah, I know, it's stupid" He mumbled, as I giggled again. 

"It's not stupid it's sweet..." I smiled at him and he smiled back

"you really think so?" He asked curiously, hope filling his voice. 

"yeah I do, but I just have one question," I said pausing

"alright shoot" He glanced up at a street sign to make sure we were going the right way 

"why me?" I asked, genuinely curious about his answer. 

"you're like me," He replied pausing before he continued. "You were too young to die, so full of life, and you had so much to live for" He spoke passionately, firmly believing in what he was saying. I chuckled as he sighed, "and well I was the same way, too young and full of life, and had dreams of living forever and growing up and having a family..." He trailed off sniffling a little, I looked at his face which was focused intently on the sidewalk. I put my hand on his shoulder, as an act of sympathy, he smiled and wiped his nose. "plus you're really pretty" He added his face turning red like a tomato, as he avoided looking me in the eyes. My face went up in flames. 

"t-thanks" I stuttered, avoiding his eyes as well. We walked on in silence for a few more minutes before he stopped walking, and cleared his throat. 

"we're here," He said gesturing towards a big house with two gates in front of the wood doors, the black gates had umbrellas on them which I thought strange. Ben opened the gates as well as the door and led me inside. 

"what are we doing here Ben?" I said following him through the main hallway and under a giant chandelier

"We are meeting my brother" He answered 

"why? and what is this place?" I asked as we entered a room with animal heads mounted along the walls and the portrait of a boy hanging above the fireplace. 

"my brother can talk to the dead, and this was my childhood home," He said grasping my hand and pulling me out of the room when I lingered too long looking at a portrait of a family hanging on another wall. I saw a little boy that kind of looked like Ben in the painting before he pulled me away. 

"So your brother can talk to us?" I asked in disbelief as he continued holding my hand while leading me up a big staircase. 

"yes" He answered, he led me down a hallway to where I assumed his brother's room was and opened the door peeking inside. He stopped inside the door frame but didn't let go of my hand, and so I saw no need to remove it from his. He was looking at a boy around our age, maybe a little older, sitting on the bed knitting with a ball of yarn on his stomach. He cleared his throat to get the boy on the bed's attention. The boy on the bed looked towards Ben and his face lit up. 

"BEN YOU'RE BACK!" He squealed in delight before catching sight of me, he raised his eyebrows before looking down and noticing my hand in Ben's. The boy raised his eyebrows even higher and said "well, well well, Benny brought a GiRl with him" He said in a sing-songy tone. 

"Shut up Klaus," Ben said, chuckling a little, still not bothering to remove his hand from mine. 

"Does Benny Boo have a little ghostie GIRLFRIEND?" The boy I now knew was named Klaus teased dancing around the room, taunting Ben. Ben looked down at the floor clearly embarrassed. 

"I wish" Ben mumbled, making me giggle, I made a split second decision, and leaned over and planted a kiss on his cheek. His face flared up again and he looked at me with wide eyes. I giggled again. 

"Awe Benny has a girlfriend," Klaus said squealing in delight, as Ben continued to blush, and smile a little. 

--Fin--

QOTD: What's your favorite Ben and Klaus moment? 

Join my discord: https://discord.gg/9bwRmtXCuB

[frickityfrackityfuckingshit]

Matt sighed as he sat in the oh-so-familiar cell once more. He knew this rickety bench, the chipped paint on the wall, the dirt collecting in the corner.

He could say from experience, that he knows this cell only got a proper clean about once a month.

He looked at the blank wall on the other side of the bars, and slouched further down the bench. He’d be there for a couple more hours maybe, before he’s transferred somewhere more permanent, more secure.

“How much longer?” He asked anyway, directed at the hero standing guard outside his cell.

The hero sent him a bored glance, and didn’t respond.

It was funny, really, how it only took two police to bring him in, but they’d got a top-level hero guarding his cell. Doubtless there’d be at least 5 more patrolling area.

“Ughhhhh,” he groaned, just to be irritating.

Every time he got caught, the security became heavier.

Maybe this time they’ll decide I’m not worth it, he thinks to himself sombrely.

He summoned a square of pink paper, and started to fold it, his fingers following the well known steps.

If only he could summon a little bit more than flimsy pieces of paper, he’d do a little bit more damage, get a little bit further. No one even considered it dangerous enough to put him in special power suppressing handcuffs.

He blew into the flattened shape, giving it some shape.

At least he was pretty decent at origami.

He finished the rabbit with a final fold. He didn’t like it. He vanished it into thin air again, restarted the process with a rich crimson paper, when he heard a resounding crash.

He couldn’t help the way the corners of his mouth flickered up and his heart fluttered happily.

They’d come for him.

The hero outside his cell didn’t look bored anymore, instead crouched attentively. It didn’t protect her from the burst of flames that roared down the hallway.

The deep click of familiar heeled steps had him standing up and approaching the barred door.

“Matty!” A voice squealed as the bars melted to the floor immediately. His small smile widened to a grin.

“Hi Helia,” he said warmly. He was immediately pulled into a hot hug, her body just on the wrong side on uncomfortable, but he hugged her back tightly nonetheless.

“I literally cannot believe you got caught again!” She said into his shoulder, faux chastising. “Honestly, we have to get you more, like, tech. I’m sure Dark Eye would be happy to give you some. You know he wouldn’t mind if you just, like, asked.”

He sighed again.

“Yeah I know. But I just wanna do it by myself yaknow? I’ll be more careful next time.”

She released him from her overwarm grip, but left her hands on his shoulders.

“Yeah. You better,” she pouted.

“Oh,” Matt said, remembering his creation. He quickly changed the material to something a little more heatproof. “This is for you.”

He presented the folded red flower.

She flushed happily, like her body heat already wasn’t enough to bring colour to her cheeks.

“Awww thanks!!! You know how much I love winning,” he crooned, carefully turning the flower around to look at it from all angles.

Matt laughed.

“You know I can make you things when I’m not stuck in a police cell right?”

She looked up at him with a smile.

“I knowww but it’s like, so much more satisfying after a rescue. I almost feel like, a hero!”

They both laughed loudly at that.

“Let’s get going then,” she said gesturing out of the cell. “Wouldn’t want them to scoop you up again just after we got you back.”

Matt smiled the whole way out of the police station.

One of the walls was nothing but rubble anymore, but if they honestly wanted their station in one piece, they shouldn’t have stationed so many heroes.

“Thanks,” he said quietly as they walked down the street, towards Helia’s car.

She sent him a look.

“What for?”

“Ah for, yaknow,” he waved his arms meaningfully. “Coming to rescue me.”

She smiled at him.

“Awww don’t be like that Matty. You know we’ll always come for you. You’re like, one of us.”

He smiled back hesitantly.

“Do you reckon the Boss’ll be mad.”

Her smile turned into a pout.

“I don’t even know why you ask. You know you’re the favourite by like a bajillion miles.”

His grin widened.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

She shoved him playfully.

“Yeah sure you don’t.”

You are a truly pathetic villain. Ordinary police regularly overpowers you and heroes do not even bother fighting you. Yet the villains still allow you to remain among their ranks, because you are just so goddamn likeable.

[galacticspaceguy]

Rough draft for the first chapter of my oc x Bumblebee fanfic:

“Ugh, I’m bored!” Twitch groaned. She flopped down into a block of hay, it was midday on a Thursday. “There’s nothing to do!”

“You can always go on patrol.” Bumblebee said.

“We can do that!?” Twitch and Thrash said in unison.

“We’re scouts. You know… Let’s make this a training lesson! Whoever can bring back the most interesting thing back from patrol wins!” In Bumblebee’s mind, this was a great idea, finally something to get them excited to train. “But, uh, don’t go more than 5 miles.”

“Woo! Mo, wanna come with?” Thrash transformed.

“Uh, yea!” Mo jumped into Thrash’s passenger seat.

Twitch turned to Robby. “Wanna come, Robby?”

“I’m good, dad needs help making lunch.” Robby got up and headed towards the house. “Bring back something cool!” He yelled.

“Well, Twitch that leaves you on your own.” Bumblebee said. “We’ve got 30 minutes, ready, set… Go!” Thrash zoomed off, and Bumblebee and Twitch transformed, heading off into their own directions.

Twitch zoomed through the trees, going faster and faster. “Wa-hoo!”

Twitch transformed, landing on the soft dirt ground. “Gotta find something, something cool, it’s gonna rule!” Twitch sang, digging around the bushes and trees.

A loud piercing sound with gushing wind followed. Twitch jumped back. She ran out to the cliff side clearing, high up above the valley below.

A red jet spun in the air, making sharp turns, along the snowy mountains, big evergreen trees, and the big blue lake.

The jet sped up, only feet away from the water. It leaned one of its wings into the water, making a big wave effect.

Then, the jet went straight up into the air, going higher and higher, until the jet transformed into a bot!

The bot was falling, then they spread their arms out, transforming back into a jet before they hit the water.

They sped back up into the air, transforming and landing gracefully on the cliff side, their red and black paint shining in the sun.

“That was so cool!”

The bot turned around to Twitch running up to them.

“Umm… Thanks…?” His voice sparked a bit of confusion.

“My name's Twitch, what’s yours?” Twitch hovered to reach his height.

“Names Nitro, kid.” His bright red optics looked down at her chest. “No badge? You must be neutral? Don’t see many of them around here.”

“Oh, me? I mean I guess, but my mentor is an Autobot, his name is Bumblebee, his lessons are so boring, though. Can you teach me to do those flight moves you were doing!?” Twitch was firing questions.

“Your mentor is Bumblebee!? Bumblebee is here?” Nitro became serious for a moment.

“Yeah? Ooo, do you know him!?”

Nitro glanced away for a second, his wings twitching. He smiled. “Of course, me and Bee go way back, old buddies during the war!”

“Oh, my, gosh! You should totally come back with me to my house! Bumblebee is always so boring cause it’s always just him there. Maybe with an old friend he’ll lighten up!”

“Sorry, kid…” Nitro paused. “Gotta stay hidden and stuff.”

“Oh…” Twitch looked down at her feet. “Well I better find something for the competition- THE COMPETITION! I HAVE TO FIND SOMETHING COOL!”

Twitch started heading back into the forest. “Nice to meet you, mister Nitro! I’ll tell Bumblebee I saw you!”

“Wait!” Nitro yelled after her. “Don’t! Let’s make it a surprise!” He took a missile off his left arm, and threw it at Twitch, who caught it. “Take this for your competition.”

“Thanks, mister Nitro! When will I get to see you again?”

Nitro scratched his chin, then smirked. “Bring me two cubes of Energon, meet up here, and I’ll teach you everything I know!”

Twitch smiled, then transformed, disappearing into the forest. Nitro sighed with a low laugh.

“So, so gullible. I hope you like your ‘present’, Bumblebee… It’s time to restart the hunt.”